


For Lack of a Better Title

by AttaBoyBuddy



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Wade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Bottom Peter Parker, I'll add tags as we go, Insecure Wade Wilson, M/M, My First Spideypool Fic, Omega Peter Parker, Prince Peter Parker, Prince Wade Wilson, Top Wade Wilson, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23887978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttaBoyBuddy/pseuds/AttaBoyBuddy
Summary: Omega Peter Parker and Alpha Wade Wilson are arranged to be married as children. Just as the wedding begins to draw near, war breaks out and Wade goes to fight on the front lines. Battle changes him, physically and emotionally, and Peter has to work to bring him back. They both want to be good for each other and the kingdom, but some scars don't heal.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 43
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this idea during quarantine and couldn't get any work done until I got it out. I'll try to post semi-regularly if people are interested (so if you are please let me know, otherwise I'll probably run out of motivation). Any feedback would be much appreciated. There is mention of child abuse in this chapter, although it is not explicit. Cheers!

Peter had always known that his marriage was going to be arranged by his parents, and he didn’t have a problem with it. The bond was going to be arranged, not forced, and he trusted his parents to choose an alpha that would take care of him and respect him. After all, his parents knew him and would do what they thought would be in his best interests, and their bond had been arranged and they seemed as happy as if they had chosen each other themselves.

By the time his parents died, Peter’s future alpha had already been chosen. Their fathers had fought in the war together, and had apparently saved each other’s lives enough times that trust was as instinctual to them as breathing. Although they had their personal differences, apparently the other man doted on his wife, which was something he would certainly pass onto his son. When Peter’s care was transferred to his Uncle Ben, who took the throne shortly after his brother’s death, the agreement between the original king and their neighbor was honored. It was a good match- their kingdoms were neighbors, and a bond between the princes would strengthen diplomatic relationships.

Peter wasn’t worried about the marriage. He was promised to an alpha named Wade, a boy near his own age who would one day be king. He had known Wade since they were young children, although not well, as they only saw each other every few years for regional celebrations or tournaments. They knew they were to be mated one day, and the pressure kept them from ever being truly friends, but they would nod at each other from across the crowded hall and exchange occasional pleasantries under the watchful eye of their nurses or chaperones. They were never alone together. Although they never had particularly memorable positive interactions, they never had memorably negative ones either. Peter was really too young to find anyone attractive, and the prospect of marriage and bonding was so far-off it didn’t even feel real. He certainly noticed Wade, and he received plenty of pointed looks from his aunt or his nurse whenever they exchanged well-rehearsed pleasantries. He certainly seemed nice and friendly, and to a young child like Peter that was all that mattered.

Just when they were old enough to start finding each other interesting, Wade’s mother died. His kingdom stopped sending groups to the celebrations and the boys’ already infrequent meetings came to an end. Although they were never close, Peter missed him. There was always the promise that they might talk, might connect in some meaningful way before they were finally mated, especially now that they were old enough to begin to understand who they were to each other. Instead, they got older in their separate kingdoms and didn’t see or hear from each other, relying instead on word of mouth passed from kingdom to kingdom. By their mid-teens, they were both fully matured in their designations. Peter was a fully-fledged omega. Hearing or even thinking too hard about how big and tall and strong his future alpha had grown since they had last met made his knees weak. Although it had been years since the queen had passed, Wade’s father had apparently never stopped mourning her, which Peter’s uncle always said was a shame but respectable.

Sometimes Peter would overhear travelers' recounts of the neighboring prince. That he was as Peter imagined him- big, and strong. Handsome. Witty. He attended court and sat by his father’s side. It kept him up at night on several occasions. He was on suppressants so he had yet to go through a heat, but lack of experience didn’t keep him from imagining what it would be like to be with his mate. Uncle Ben told him that he and Wade’s father were finally, blessed god finally, discussing firm dates, details, of their charge’s marriage. A year, maybe two. Where Peter had once felt ambivalent about Wade, he now felt deep longing. Would they be like his parents had been? In love? His father had been truly besotted with his mother, if Peter’s memory served and his Uncle was to be believed. Or would it be like the horror stories he had heard? Would Wade order him around, with Peter powerless against his Voice? Would he beat him? When Wade became king he could do whatever he pleased, even to his Royal Omega. He knew bonding was painful, but once it was over the pain should end with it. Hopefully.

As two years became one, and one became a matter of months, Peter was restless for the Bond. He wanted to be the perfect omega for his alpha. His father had made a good match, he could feel it. He could be obstinate and stubborn, but surely Wade would find it charming rather than grating. Maybe Wade would be possessive, but it would be an expression of love and a desire to protect rather than mistrust. Peter would have the most beautiful pups in the whole world and Wade would love them and they would be Pack. When the date was officially set Peter nearly wept with relief and excitement. They were going to be Bonded, officially mated in just a few months. He studied and learned all the traditional duties of a royal omega, including the languages of the region, history, and art. He got to be quite good at dancing and music, if the opinion of his tutors were to be believed. After quite a substantial amount of pleading and at least some tactful sulking he was taught some sword fighting and strategy, although they were carefully balanced with hospitality and manners. His alpha would be king, but Peter would be expected to rule if he should be called away from the throne. It also wasn’t unheard of for a king to include their omega among their advisors in court if they were well taught, and Peter hoped his alpha would allow it. He wanted to help, to be involved. In a few months he would make a good first impression, and he would prove to his alpha that not only could he be a good omega, but he could also be a confidante. Someone to be trusted and confided with in matters of state.

Then, war broke out with the kingdom to the east. It was no minor scuffle that could be settled with peaceful words and treaties- it was to be settled in blood. Their troops left in massive battalions, and it wasn’t long before Peter could see the banner of their neighbors joining their own. Peter knew without having been told that Wade would fight alongside his soldiers, but the letter notifying them that the wedding would have to be postponed still left him feeling gutted. He respected the alpha for fighting, he did. There was true honor in fighting alongside his armies to protect the people of his kingdom and those of his allies. Peter loved him all the more for it, but there was the unsaid truth of the matter- Wade could die on the field. Or even if he didn’t, he might be called away long enough that Peter would have to find a different alpha to mate with. He couldn’t wait forever. Peter knew he was being rather selfish. Lots of good and honorable men would die, many of whom would likely already be mated, with their own families and pups. Pups themselves very well might die, innocent lives lost in conflict. Peter knew he couldn’t trade one life for another, and bringing Wade back to be mated would undoubtedly get other good men killed.

But gods, part of him wished that he could.

\---

Wade had known and understood that his marriage was arranged by his parents for as long as he could remember. It was a fact that he dealt with and didn’t care much about for the majority of his childhood. When they went to visit the neighboring kingdom or hosted for various events Wade would always make a point of picking his future omega- Peter- out in a crowd. Not to talk to him, certainly, because it would be weird and uncomfortable, but to see him. Know his face. Wade’s father told him about the neighboring king and their time together on the battlefield, and he spoke with such pride and strength Wade couldn’t help but grin. His mother would sit with them and tell him that the two kings had protected each other so that their sons could do the same for each other one day. She would tell him how important it would be for him to love and cherish his omega while his father would tell him he would have to be strong and brave in order to protect him. Not only him, but the kingdom as well. The country would be his Pack when he took the throne and he had to be an alpha to them as well as to his mate. It wouldn’t be enough to only protect one member of the Pack, and he couldn’t put one life ahead of thousands. His mom would strategically change the subject from kingdoms and the lives of thousands and how Wade would have responsibility for them, but it kept him awake at night anyway.

Then she died. She died, and she wasn’t supposed to, and everything got worse because of it. All talk of love and cherishing omegas ended, and so did visiting the neighboring kingdoms. For a while he didn’t care that they weren’t travelling anymore, not only because it was a fairly infrequent event, but also because the idea of doing anything that his mother should have been doing with them made Wade feel physically ill. The loss rolled off the king in such thick waves it was choking. Even as months faded into years and the grief in Wade faded to a more tolerable level, he didn’t dare ask when they would go to a tournament or a holiday celebration again. When he would get to see Peter. The grief never faded for his father, only deepened until it reached a level so profound Wade could hardly be in the same room. He had to, of course, and often. He had so much to learn about leading a country- how to be king, an alpha for an entire nation.

He grew, as children are so committed to doing, and he learned the things he had to know so one day he could wear the crown. He attended court, and sat in on committee meetings. Sat with tutors and soldiers, learned to read maps and hold a sword and foster diplomatic relations. He sat by his father’s side while he tried to provide for the Pack. He liked to learn and he wanted to be a good king one day. Like his father.  
His father was a good king. He was well-liked by the people and respected in court. The first time he hit his son, Wade didn’t really understand what had happened. By the time he made the connection between the pain in his face and his father's fist, the king was already halfway to the door. He was drunk, and he stumbled, and Wade was quick to help him up and into bed. It was okay, it was a momentary lapse of judgement. His father was so stressed, and still mourning, and it wouldn’t happen again.

It happened again. A third time, a fourth time. The thick rings on his fingers opened Wade’s lip or eyebrow or nose like it was nothing. Wade would go to the castle physician to be looked after and then he would go to bed and the next morning he would swear to be better for his father. The physician knew his trade well, and usually by morning the worst of the swelling had faded. The king would be sober and could perform his duties, and kept his fists to himself. There were days when, even sober, he would grip Wade’s arm a little too tight or say something a little too pointed, but how could Wade ever be a good king if he couldn’t handle it? How could he be expected to protect the people who relied on him? His mother had made him too soft, and he had to toughen up if he was going to be even a halfway decent alpha to the Pack. They relied on him. There was no room for weakness. His father may have terrified him, but he was making him stronger. A better alpha, a better king. Every black eye was a lesson, every split lip was a correction. A broken wrist. A trickle of blood down the back of his head and through his hair, staining the back of his shirt. To his father’s credit, Wade knew the capital of every kingdom in the region. He knew the names of every king that had sat on his father’s throne. He knew battle strategy and proper form on a horse and how to walk so silently he might as well not have been there. How to cry without interrupting the cadence of his breathing.

Sometimes, when he was alone in his bed in the dead of night, Wade would think about Peter. Years had gone by since they had seen each other, and Wade was growing into full-bodied alpha. Certainly Peter was not in a dissimilar situation. Had he kept his small frame of childhood? Wade would have to be careful not to hurt him when they bonded. Thinking of him sometimes became thinking of him often. Nightly, even. When they finally mated, Wade would protect him. He would be a good alpha. Wade wished they had been closer as children, but that might only make the separation harder. Finally his father and Peter’s uncle started talking more seriously about the engagement. His father’s advisors had finally been successful in their prodding of the king, and he was seeing to his heir. He wouldn’t dare let his father see, but Wade nearly cried when the date of the wedding became official. Despite his efforts his father still felt he got too emotional and quickly set him right. Wade refused to let his elation suffer from it. He was going to be mated.

He was going to be mated, and then he wasn’t. Their allies were bound for war, which meant they were too. There wasn’t an instant when Wade considered not joining his men on the battlefield. How could he ever ask for their loyalty as king if he would not stand with them? So he went. After a few days of riding they crossed the border into the neighboring kingdom- Peter’s kingdom- to meet up with their soldiers and march as a unified front. They didn’t stop, there wasn’t time for a visit, and Wade’s chest ached as the castle disappeared over the horizon only a few hours after it had first come into view. He didn’t let it show, both out of habit and in a conscious effort to maintain a strong and confident air. His soldiers needed him to be the alpha his father had been training him to be. It wasn’t entirely an act- he was proud to be defending an ally and fighting with honor. Even if it meant he might die, which he was trying not to think about too hard as they marched onward toward the battlefield. If he thought about it too much for too long he started to feel like he might be ill. So instead of thinking about death or pain he thought about honor, and pride, and how he was going to prove that he could be the leader his kingdom deserved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your positive comments! I wanted to get a little further than this, but by the time I got the the end I felt like the chapter was starting to get too long. The next chapter is the one that got me writing this in the first place: banter and dancing!

They accepted surrender after almost two years of fighting. Wade could have gone home after he was first injured during the first few months, but he could still fight and so he stayed to get hurt again. He knew it was the honorable thing to do. How could he ever call himself king if he was willing to abandon his army when they needed him? He only stayed down long enough for the worst of the bleeding to stop and then he was back on his feet, earning the respect and support of his men. There were times he saved their lives, and there were times when they saved his. There were times, too many times, where he was too slow and it would be too late to save someone. He would hesitate for just a moment too long and it would mean that someone could never go home to their family. People would tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t be responsible for the lives of everyone on the battlefield, but they were Pack, which meant it was his fault and he was responsible. If he could claim their big successes he had to claim their everyday failures. So he held them when they died, and he made sure notices were sent back to their families when he could, and when the sun came up the next morning he made sure there were five enemy soldiers in the ground for every one of his. He mourned and fought and lived for the Pack and eventually it got easier to sleep with the taste of blood in his mouth.

And then the war was over, and he went back home. He slept on the floor because his bed was too damn soft and it was difficult enough as it was to sleep in silence all alone. After two years of fighting he was covered in scars that even the resident physician couldn’t make fade, and where once people had stared at him because he was handsome they stared because they were horrified. Nobody ever said anything, of course. Most of the people he now saw on a daily basis either pitied him or had fought with him and respected what he had done. Besides, even if people did think he was disgusting to look at, they knew better than to say so. He had killed a lot of people during the war, and one day he would be king. 

It was a few months before the last of his injuries finally became fully closed scars, and the time had come to revisit his marriage. Peter was still unmated, although apparently only through sheer force of will and stubbornness. No doubt every eligible alpha in the region had been courting him instead of standing with their countrymen on the battlefield. Despite that, Peter still wanted to honor their lifelong engagement, and Wade wasn’t going to try to change his mind. Of course, Peter may take one look at him and decide that he’d rather mate with one of the pigs, but Wade would cross that bridge of crushing rejection when he came to it. Even with his skin he was still a prince bound for the throne of a strong and wealthy kingdom, and Peter was unlikely to find a more advantageous mating than that for his own political standing. Wade refused to be nervous about it, even as the date drew closer. 

Besides, there wasn’t much time to be nervous. The wedding wasn’t far off and he had so much to prepare for. He had to memorize his vows and remind himself how to dance. He had been quite good before he left, and thankfully the muscle memory was still there even after all this time. Some things took a little longer to get back to, like not cursing in court, but he could handle it. His father made sure of it, although his will was mostly enacted by tutors, as he spent most of his time nowadays behind closed doors. He had somehow gotten worse while Wade was away, but he didn’t hit his son anymore. He could have- Wade wouldn’t have fought him- but the energy seemed to have drained out of him. 

\---

The war was finally over, and with it Peter’s waiting for Wade. He really truly wanted to wait for him, but it was starting to get more and more difficult to put off a mating. He couldn’t wait forever, both to maintain his reproductive viability but also to avoid insulting their other neighbors beyond forgiveness. He could only say, “thank you, and I’m deeply honored, but-” so many times and for so long before they started to take it personally. Most of them understood and respected his devotion to an alpha who was fighting with honor, but as the likelihood that Wade would never come back grew, even the most patient alpha started to get restless. Of course, that’s not to mention the naturally impatient.

Brock Rumlow was one of the naturally impatient. He was a duke, and was, politically, the next best thing for Peter politically as long as no other princes came calling. Uncle Ben had been the one to make the initial introductions, and Peter tried hard not to take it personally when it went badly. Rumlow was patronizing and rude, and although he never stood too close to Peter or tried to scent him, Peter didn’t doubt for a moment that he would if they had ever been alone. Uncle Ben had apologized about it later, and Aunt May said he made the introduction largely to avoid insulting the alpha. Peter declined as graciously as he could the first time Rumlow had made a bid for his hand, but he was not easily deterred, and continued to push. Fortunately Peter was rarely left unattended, and certainly never when Rumlow was around the castle. There were more dukes and barons and nobles around than Peter was used to, largely because of the conflict to the east. He understood and appreciated their presence for the most part, although Rumlow wasn’t the only one to try to replace Wade and it was getting on Peter’s last nerve. 

So, when the news finally came that the war was over and Wade had survived, Peter was beyond elated. They were going to get married, and that was that. Uncle Ben tried to warn him that war had likely changed Wade, who Peter had never known well in the first place, and that he should be ready for the possibility that he might not be all that Peter had imagined him to be. But Peter wouldn’t hear of it. Even if he was hardened by battle, Wade had honor and bravery, and that was more than what any of the alphas hanging around the castle had. 

If Peter’s schedule was full before, it was completely bursting now. He woke up extra early to meet with his usual tutors and still have time for wedding prep, and most nights he stayed up late preparing and studying. He understood the general timeline of the wedding ceremony, but he had to know every minute detail of the day, from the moment Wade arrived until the alpha fell asleep after their bonding. The wedding wouldn’t be public, and it would only be Peter and Wade when the time came to physically bond, thank goodness. There would be witnesses while Uncle Ben signed Peter away to Wade and they said their vows, and there would be a large feast, which would double as a celebration for the victory in the east, for all the nobility in attendance. Then, in the perfect show of respect and desire, Wade would whisk him away so they could mate in private, and the next morning they would showcase Wade’s mark on Peter’s throat. If the bond took there would be a whole week of dancing and feasting and celebrating the princes. And if it didn’t take, then-

Peter refused to plan for the bond not taking. It would take.

The days were slow, but the months were quick, and before long the day of the wedding arrived. Wade would be arriving soon, and they and their families would have a formal meeting so Peter and Wade could scent each other and then they’d move somewhere else with their various councils and advisors and high-status nobles so they could sign their marriage contract. It wouldn’t be technically official until they bonded, but that would wait until after a night of feasting and music and dancing. It would be one of the biggest parties of Peter’s entire life and at the end of it he would have a mate. Someone who would love him for the rest of his life and who he would love in return.

When the first carriage came into view Peter almost passed out. He waited with his aunt behind his uncle on the steps of the palace, trying hard not to visibly shake from nerves. Wade’s father was the first to climb out when the carriage pulled to a stop at the base of the steps, and he looked tired and irritated even from a distance. Could this really be the man his father had respected so deeply? Then came a man Peter didn’t know personally but he could only assume was the king’s advisor, Norman Osbourn. There was a moment where nobody else left the carriage, but then the king turned and said something inaudible from so far away, and he climbed out.

Peter hadn’t seen Wade since they were children, and he had changed a lot since then. Not only was he bigger now- taller and broader in a way that made Peter’s knees weak- but he was also covered in scars. Peter had been surrounded all his life by powerful figures who commanded the attention of everyone in the room, but Wade made everyone else fade into the background. As more carriages and mounted riders joined the first carriage, the party of three was quickly followed up the castle steps by a number of people Peter did not recognize but assumed were other high-ranking members of the king’s cabinet. As they approached, Peter and Aunt May bowed to the visiting king while Uncle Ben descended down the remaining steps to meet them. The kings shook hands and greeted one another, and Peter had to physically restrain himself from openly gawking at the prince. That was his future mate, and he was breathtaking, but it would be impolite to stare. He’d have time later.

Aunt May quickly joined her husband in greeting the king and his advisor as well as the prince, while Peter hung back until his guardians saw fit to invite him. They did, thank the gods, and he made his way to his uncle’s side. Nobody shook hands with him, but he could feel several pairs of eyes appraising him. Part of him wanted to be insulted, but he couldn’t very well blame them. He was, after all, going to be tasked with providing an heir for their kingdom and would sit by the side of their future king.

“This,” Uncle Ben said, his hand resting gently on Peter’s shoulder, “is my nephew, Prince Peter Benjamin Parker of Queensland.” 

“It is a pleasure and an honor to meet you, your Majesty,’ Peter said, bowing his head first to the king, “your Highness,” to the prince, “and the court of your realm,” which was general, but the best he could do without really knowing who was who.

“Likewise,” said the visiting king, which was certainly terse, but it wasn’t outright rude. The prince didn’t say anything, which wasn’t unusual and probably for the best. Peter suspected that if the prince had said something to him right at that moment he might faint.

“Shall we go in?” Uncle Ben asked. “I’m sure you would all like to settle in before we get to business.” The king nodded, and the group made their way up into the palace. Servants quickly descended to retrieve various trunks and bags, while others came around the side of the building to start the long process of quartering the horses and moving a growing line of carriages into the coach house. 

As they climbed the stairs, Peter tried to ignore the feeling of Wade watching him. He must have looked quite a sight, because as they went Aunt May put her hand on his back to steady him. He shot her a grateful look, and even when she withdrew her hand he felt a bit more steady. Once they got inside, the visiting nobility were quickly shown to their rooms, and Peter released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, although he wasn’t remotely close to being relaxed. Once everyone was settled the parties would meet again, and this time Peter and Wade would be expected to actually interact. It would be the first real opportunity where something could go wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has left comments so far. I'm really glad people enjoy this fic and it really means a lot to me when people give me feedback. I was so excited to write this chapter- it was one that I've been thinking about and going over in my head for a while. I ended up writing way more than I'm including in this chapter, but I got to the point where I had more than double the word count of the last two chapters combined and wasn't done yet, so I decided to divide it up for easier reading. I'll upload the rest really soon so there won't be much of a wait. Do be aware that although there's no assault, there is the threat of assault in this chapter. It ends up being okay, but I still wanted to warn people.

They met in the council chambers. Among them were Peter and Wade, Uncle Ben and Aunt May, Thomas Wilson with his chief advisor, and a few members of both kings’ cabinets. Before the war, and the significant expenditures that came with it, a more lavish wedding would have been arranged for the pair, but given the financial situations of both kingdoms they opted to focus on the feast and post-wedding celebrations and call it a day. If someone had asked him if he was disappointed, Peter would have said no. He would say that to whine about not getting the wedding he had dreamt of his whole life would be incredibly selfish, and as long as he and Wade were married it didn’t matter whether or not he got a real wedding. Whether or not that was completely true hardly mattered.

Uncle Ben signed first, agreeing to relinquish Peter to Wade, providing that they created a temporary bond as soon as possible and a permanent one when Peter eventually went into heat. He had taken the last of his suppressants the night before, so it would probably be within the next month or so. There were some allowances for health or other physical constraints that might prevent it, but Uncle Ben was firm that if Wade didn’t form a bond with his nephew then Peter would come back under his purview. There was some discussion towards what would happen if Wade should die before they were able to bond, and there was a suggestion that he might be passed to Wade’s next of kin as if he were a possession to be passed around, but Uncle Ben quickly put an end to it, bless him.

When Wade signed, Peter was stuck between marvelling at his large hand clutching the pen or his face. He agreed to Uncle Ben’s terms, as well as making it a matter of contract that he would protect and honor Peter as well as he was able until the end of his days. The vow wasn’t strictly necessary, and it made Peter’s stomach flutter to see him make it. Wade’s father made quick work of signing, promising to make sure Peter had a place to live in Victoria, so long as the bonding occured, for as long as he was reigning king. He didn’t have much of a responsibility for Peter beyond keeping his son in line, and he made no extraneous vows like his son had.

It was quick work, even with the slightly uncomfortable conversation about ownership of Peter should Wade die before they bonded, and Peter couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that his name did not appear on the contract. It didn’t have to- legally, Uncle Ben owned him and was merely transferring ownership to another alpha. You don’t need a piece of furniture’s permission to give it to someone else. Still, Peter wished he had a more active role. After all, if they had been able to have a wedding Peter would have been able to deliver his vows. He would have been able to make promises to Wade that would be witnessed by the gods and his kingdom. It was silly, but he wanted it.

“Could I sign?” Peter asked. For a moment, the room was still.

“Peter-” Aunt May said softly, and he could hear the sympathy, and the slight disappointment that he would embarrass himself, in her voice.

“I know it isn’t completely necessary,” Peter explained quickly, “but I’d like very much to make promises to my alpha that are a matter of legal record.” He didn’t look directly at Wade, but he didn’t miss the smile when he referred to him as his alpha.

“Well,” Uncle Ben said, looking around the room for any disagreements as he spoke, “I don’t see the harm in it.”

For the first time since the meeting began, Norman Osbourn spoke up and said, “Why waste our time? Nothing he says has any legal basis.”

He was right, but it was crushing nonetheless. There was a moment of quiet murmurs of agreement, nobody wanting to start a debate over the legal rights of omegas. This wasn’t the place for it. Peter should have kept his mouth shut instead of embarrassing himself. He embarrassed his aunt and uncle by trying to hold any legal power, even if it was in service to his alpha, he should have-

“I think it’s a great idea,” Wade said, voice rising above those of the cabinet members. They all promptly quieted, and looked at the prince, their shock evident. “I made vows of my own, which were arguably a waste of time and aren’t legally required, and nobody had any issue with it then. It’s only fair that he gets to do the same.” He looked around the room, aiming a particularly pointed look at Osbourn, seemingly inviting anyone to disagree with him. Nobody did. None of the advisors were going to cause a scene by arguing with the prince, and the king didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

Without a word, the contract was slid over to Peter. He fought to keep his grin down and his eyes from watering, but he allowed a grateful glance at Wade before he reached over to sign. In the space at the bottom, under the Wilson’s signatures and Wade’s added vows, Peter wrote,

I, Prince Peter Benjamin Parker of Queensland, vow to honor and serve Prince Wade Winston Wilson above all others until the end of my days. Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone, this I swear.

It was short, and simple, and arguably a little silly, but Peter’s hand was shaking by the time he put the pen down. Uncle Ben read it over Peter’s shoulder and smiled before sliding it back to Thomas and Wade for approval. The king shrugged noncommittally while his son beamed with unfettered pride. There were no objections, and finally the two kings applied their seals to the document, authenticating its acceptance by the two parties. 

And with that, they were married.  
\---

It was loud in the great hall. From wall to wall there were nobles from both kingdoms, including dukes and archdukes, earls, marquis, barons, viscounts, a number of archbishops, and the knights who had fought in the war. Although none of the foot soldiers had places at the tables during the massive meal, they swarmed in from the adjoining courtyard once the tables were moved out of the way. There would be time for more socializing before the musicians played music for dancing, in order to give everyone a chance to fully digest.

Peter was absolutely sweltering. He was squeezed in between his aunt and Wade, and every time Wade so much as glanced in his direction his entire face turned red. It didn’t help that at any given moment about a dozen pairs of eyes watched the new couple, and although he had been in the public eye for his entire life the attention still made Peter uncomfortable. They all expected so much from him, especially those from Victoria. One day, gods willing. He would provide them an heir.

He shouldn’t have started thinking about providing an heir. As soon as he started thinking about providing an heir he started thinking just how he would go about doing it, and then he started thinking about how close Wade was and how good he smelled and how broad he was and-

“Would you please excuse me?” Peter requested to no one in particular, “I’m just going to step out for a moment of fresh air.”

“Are you alright, Peter?” Aunt May asked as Peter stood from the table.

“More than alright, thank you. I’m just feeling a bit warm,” Peter assured her. “Don’t let them start the dancing without me.”

Peter spared Wade a momentary glance and couldn’t help but notice he looked a bit… embarrassed, maybe? Peter could have said he looked guilty, or even sad, but that didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t very well ask when so many people were around. That, and gods, he was so warm it was making him feel a bit ill. So he strode as confidently as he could out into the corridor. There would be more fresh air if he went out into the courtyard, but the doors were wide open and there were still groups of soldiers filtering in and out, and he wanted just a moment alone. 

The corridor ended up being just what he needed. It was quiet, and cool, and blessedly empty. Peter took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he leaned against the wall, letting the stress of the day melt into the stone. It had been a good day all things considered, and all signs pointed to it being a good evening and night, Still, Peter could feel tight knots in his neck and shoulders that seemed to refuse to unravel. On one hand, Peter knew logically that he had every reason to be stressed- his life was changing, after all, and dramatically. But on the other hand, they had only been married for a few hours and already Peter had a good feeling about Wade. They hadn’t even had an actual conversation yet, but something felt right about it. Wade had defended his desire to sign the marriage contract in the council chambers even when it was unnecessary and could have caused unease between him and his father’s chief advisor. He had gone out of his way to make a marriage vow to Peter, given that there would be no wedding during which they could exchange them. It was a bit awkward between them, but that was perfectly normal given the circumstances. Aunt May had once told him it took a week for Uncle Ben to concede to call her by her first name after they were married, even in private. It made Peter feel more at ease to know that the awkwardness would likely dissipate, and quickly, especially if Wade felt the same unexplainable rightness about their marriage that Peter did. Hopefully they wouldn’t feel compelled to call each other by their proper titles in their mating bed.

It was nice, to be alone, even if it would only be for a moment. Peter knew it would have to end soon, but it was nice to have a few minutes to compose himself.

Apparently, he would get fewer minutes alone than he had planned on.

“Had to get away, did you?”

Peter immediately stood up straight, embarrassed and a bit unsettled that a stranger had seen him and gotten so close without his knowledge. The newcomer was taller than Peter, with sharp features and a closely shaven head. He was objectively handsome, but something about his smell and the look in his eyes made Peter uncomfortable.

“Well, no, not exactly-” Peter said, not wanting to give the stranger, who was clearly a soldier from Victoria, the impression that he didn’t want to be in the company of his alpha.

“It’s alright,” he interrupted, ambling closer to where Peter stood, “I wouldn’t want to be around that thing any longer than I’d have to be either.”

Peter was willing to be cordial, but some things did not warrant cordiality. “I’ll thank you not to speak about my alpha that way.”

“Oh, come on,” the man laughed, continuing to walk closer to Peter, who still stood near the wall, until he was much too close for comfort. “It’s just us, honey. I won’t tell if you want to complain about how your new husband looks like a rotten vegetable.” As he started to infringe on what Peter knew to be a polite speaking distance he tried backing up on instinct, but where the cool stone was once comforting it was now unyielding, and there was nowhere to go.

“You should watch what you say, sir,” Peter said, letting as much anger through the honorific as he was capable of releasing. Certainly this man could not be serious- entering a prince’s space, badmouthing his prince and future king, calling Peter honey. It was beyond insulting, and yet, he had the nerve to smile.

“Forget the ‘sir,’ you should call me ‘alpha,’ instead,” he said, leering down at Peter, who he had now pressed quite firmly against the wall. 

“How dare you,” Peter seethed. “You have no right to speak to me like that. Your prince is my husband and I-”

“But not your bondmate, not yet,” he said, his broad smile still fixed. As he spoke, he lifted his hand to rest at the base of Peter’s throat where a bonding mark would go. Peter froze, purely out of instinct. He wanted to scream, to fight, but he couldn’t seem to make his body move. “You’re not claimed in any way that matters, are you?”

Peter didn’t know exactly when he started trembling, but he couldn’t stop. He had been taught self defense, and for what? To let some strange alpha corner him and threaten to bite him right outside his marriage feast? But surely, he wouldn’t. Even with all his horrible, disgusting smiles and offensive words this man couldn’t possibly have any intention to bite Peter. Sure, he hadn’t been physically claimed yet, but legally he belonged to Wade. Even if they weren’t married, Peter was still a prince, and to claim a member of the royal family against their will was a high crime. Certainly no one in their right mind would risk a life in prison or a death sentence for a few moments of domination. Then again, it seemed to Peter that no one in their right mind would threaten him in the first place, so he shouldn’t count on this man’s recognition of the consequences should he follow through. He felt like he might be sick.

Then, the pressure at the base of his throat was gone, along with the body it was connected to. Peter blinked for a moment while his brain caught up with his body, still not completely in control of his trembling but not nearly as nauseous. He turned his head, sluggish, and watched as Wade held the man down by the throat. Peter wasn’t sure where the alpha had come from, and although he imagined Wade must be making some kind of noise, all he could hear was the blood rushing through his head. As Peter started to come back to himself he could hear Wade growling and cursing, just as he became aware of his assailant’s face turning more and more dramatic shades of red and purple.

“Wade?” Peter said softly, interrupting Wade’s snarling. The alpha froze, and whipped his head around to look at Peter. He must have conveyed at least a fraction of his confusion and fear, because Wade threw himself off the man on the floor and approached Peter like a frightened animal.

“It’s alright now, Peter. I’m here. I’ll protect you.” When Peter didn’t flinch away from him, Wade came closer slowly wrapping his arms around Peter. Wade leaned down to press his nose into Peter’s hair, which was much more familiar than they had been before, but Peter supposed Wade needed the reassurance that Peter was okay as much as he himself did.

“Wade?” Peter repeated, briefly looking at the prone figure laying a few feet away, “what- who is that?”

“Francis. He’s one of my father’s soldiers, but you’ll never see him again, I promise. I’m so, so sorry Peter. I came out here because they wanted to start the dancing, I didn’t know- I should have come sooner-”

“It’s alright, Wade,” Peter interrupted, Wade’s distress so strong he could practically taste it. “You had no way of knowing. It isn’t your fault.”

“I should have killed that son of a bitch,” Wade said, his face still buried in Peter’s hair. Although he was surprised by the language, Peter didn’t object. “I’ve always known he was a scummy rat. Even in the field I knew it. Shouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”

Part of Peter wanted to argue with the last bit, but Wade was clearly still shaken, and he certainly appreciated the rescue. Instead, he carefully peeled Wade’s arms from around him- despite Wade’s protests- and led him toward the still-open door to the great hall. Guards waited just inside, and Peter quickly dispatched them to take the barely conscious alpha to a cell and instructed them to have a physician see him. 

When Wade started to object to the medical care, Peter told him, “I won’t have anyone dying at my wedding. I’m glad you protected me, but I can’t let him die.”

Wade seemed to know better than to object, and so the pair quietly made their way to the dance floor. Aunt May and Uncle Ben clearly noticed and were perturbed by Peter’s remaining paleness and Wade’s evident anger, but made no move to intercept them. Once the two were ready the musicians picked up their instruments and began to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're curious, Peter's vows are adapted from a Celtic wedding vow that I'm fond of. Like I said in the beginning notes I have about 90% of the next chapter already written, so I'll upload that really soon. Much love!


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t until quite a few dances later that the red completely cleared from Wade’s vision. He was glad of it, because Peter was beautiful when he danced. Even better, he looked at Wade not with fear or pity, but with adoration. It was just them for that first dance, but as the music continued, more couples joined them on the dance floor. First it was Peter’s aunt and uncle, then Wade’s father and some duchess from Queensland, then cabinet members, until the floor was full of dancing nobility. Still, even with all the people, Wade still felt like they were alone.

Wade had always been a good dancer- he was light on his feet and agile. Even so, Peter made him look like a bumbling idiot. If he wasn’t a prince surely he would be a professional dancer. They turned and spun and glided across the floor like they were meant for each other. Maybe they were. It took even longer after the red cleared for the anger in Wade to melt away, but the heat coming off Peter burned it away eventually.

“You’re an excellent dancer,” Peter eventually said. It was the first time either of them had spoken since they had started.

“It’s easy when I have such a talented partner,” Wade said with a smile. “My job is to show you off to the room, and with someone as beautiful as you, my job is half done already.” It was disgustingly sappy, but it made Peter smile and blush, so it was worth it.

“You flatter me,” Peter responded graciously.

“It’s only flattery if it isn’t true,” Wade argued, smiling back down at his partner. Peter didn’t respond, only smiled and danced. The activity had never made Wade dizzy before, but here he was: dizzy and breathless. There came a moment in the dance when Wade, along with most of the alphas in the room, lifted their partner by the waist into the air as he spun, and he was so dazzled by Peter’s laugh he could have fainted right then and there.

“Are you having fun?” Peter asked, seemingly mistaking Wade’s expression for apathy rather than the step away from worship that Wade was experiencing.

“I am now,” he answered honestly. “I won’t lie and say I wasn’t a bit nervous before.”

“Nervous? I don’t believe it for a moment. All day you’ve been the picture of confidence.”

Wade chuckled, “A lifetime of keeping my nervousness under wraps will do that. But of course I’ve been nervous. How on earth could I not be?”

“How could you…” Peter, bless him, looked genuinely confused. “I mean, look at you!”

“That’s exactly my point right there,” Wade said with a shrug. “Look at me.”

“I am looking at you. I’ve been looking at you all day. I’ve had to physically force myself to look at anything else. If you’ll forgive me for saying so, you are absolutely stunning.”

“Now look who’s the flatterer,” Wade said. “Just because I’m your husband doesn’t mean you have to lie to me.”

“Prince Wade Winston Wilson!” Peter balked, “I’d do no such thing. It simply wouldn’t do for me to lie, especially to you.” 

“Goodness,” Wade said, smiling despite his complete disbelief of the little prince, “my title and full name? You must be serious.”

“I am serious. Completely.” 

Wade didn’t respond, instead opting to pull Peter closer despite there being no call for it in the current dance. Peter blushed and wiggled in Wade’s hold, but not enough that Wade was worried he had truly offended his partner. Their departure from the expected steps gained the pair some attention from the surrounding dancers, but Wade didn’t pay them any mind. Eventually Peter settled in Wade’s arms, and allowed himself to be half-carried and spun across the dance floor. When the song came to an end the musicians put their instruments down, apparently taking a short break in the performance. Wade slowed to a stop, holding Peter to him perhaps a moment longer than necessary before releasing him.

“Well,” Wade said, suddenly embarrassed. “I think I’ll, erm- Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, thank you,” Peter said gratefully. Wade nodded and excused himself, and Peter went to the head table to sit and catch his breath. It seemed like the very instant he sat that Aunt May was at his side.

“So?” She asked, excitement evident. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

Peter chuckled, “Yes, it does seem that way. It’s going quite well so far.”

“I was a bit worried when you two came back inside, before. You looked pretty shaken up. I thought something might have happened between you two.”

“No, nothing like that,” Peter assured her, not wanting her to think even for a moment that Wade’s anger had been directed at him. “There was an incident involving one of the Victorian soldiers. He got… friendly.”

“Oh, Peter, are you okay? Do you need to be seen to?”

“I’m fine, Aunt May. Really. The prince stopped it before it got too far.”

“Well thank goodness for that. I’ll have to thank him for protecting my nephew.”

Peter smiled at her, and turned to search for Wade in the crowd. The prince had almost made it back to their table with a goblet in each hand when he had been intercepted, and was apparently receiving congratulations from a line of Victorian as well as Queensland nobility. The musicians apparently saw fit to end their break and picked up their instruments, prompting Wade to look over at Peter and shrug apologetically, gesturing at the line still waiting to congratulate him. Peter smiled and shrugged back, not wanting to make Wade feel like he had to end the felicitations early. He wouldn’t die of thirst or lack of dancing anytime soon, and it would be good to let some of the nobility get the well-wishes out of their systems. Peter had been on the receiving end of a few raised glasses, but most of his congratulations would come when he had a bonding mark to show off. Tonight was Wade’s night for commendations, tomorrow would be Peter’s. 

Aunt May broke the silence between them by asking with a sly smile, “So, how are you feeling about later tonight?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Peter responded, already feeling his face heat up.

“Oh come on, Peter. I remember how nervous I was on my wedding night, and your uncle must have been half your prince’s size. If I were you I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Aunt May, please,” Peter begged, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Well if you want any advice, or any tips or anything for the bedroom, I’ve been making your uncle happy for quite a long time-”

“I am absolutely begging you to stop,” Peter said, red from his neck to his ears. He could only pray that Wade would stay occupied for the entirety of this conversation. If he overheard any of this conversation Peter was pretty sure he might combust of embarrassment. 

“Alright, but tomorrow morning I don’t want to hear about how you didn’t know what to do when he started to catch-”

“Aunt May, please.”

“What on earth are you telling our nephew? He looks like a tomato,” his uncle asked, materializing at May’s side. Peter could have wept with gratitude for the interruption.

“She is trying her hardest to send me into a fit,” Peter told him, looking pointedly at his aunt and willing the redness to fade from his face. “My own aunt, and at my wedding no less.”

Aunt May at least had the politeness to pretend to be ashamed, while Uncle Ben shook his head in mock disapproval and said, “Well now May, you shouldn’t tease him. I remember not that long ago when we got married and you had no idea what you were doing and when we tied, you-”

“Uncle Ben,” Peter practically screeched, abruptly standing up. “You two are menaces. This is outrageous. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go retrieve my drink from the prince before you two send me into hysterics.”

As he walked away Peter didn’t miss the chuckle from his aunt and uncle, and his ears must have still been tinged pink with the way Wade raised his eyebrows as he approached. Peter slid in next to Wade, who was at that moment talking with a young man around their age who posed a striking resemblance to Norman Osbourn, and took his prince’s arm, gesturing for his cup. 

“Your Highness,” the young man said, bowing his head politely. “I am Harry Osbourn of Victoria, son of Norman Osbourn of the king’s court. I was just extending my warm regards to your new husband.”

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Peter responded gracefully, returning a slight bow.

“Prince Peter,” Wade said, clearly not about to drop the title around other people even when they had apparently already abandoned them in private, “Harry and I grew up in the castle together, and he was a valuable ally during the war.”

Harry smiled and said, “This coming from arguably the most valuable soldier the kingdom’s ever had. Your husband was a marvel to watch on the battlefield, not that I saw him often. We didn’t often fight side by side, I’m afraid.”

“Come on, Harry,” Wade said, smiling but shuffling in a way that made Peter suspect the topic made him uncomfortable. “Peter doesn’t want to hear about battle. It’s a party! Not just any party- it’s my wedding! Go get yourself a drink and find someone to dance with before I take you up on that offer to duel.”

Harry chuckled and aimed a friendly punch to Wade’s shoulder before bowing again to Peter and excusing himself. It seemed that, finally, the most recent wave of well-wishers had passed. Although it hadn’t been more than twenty minutes since they had last been together, Peter was still glad to be back on Wade’s arm nonetheless.

“So,” Wade said, amusement clear in his voice. “What did the queen say that had you in such a tizzy?”

Peter gasped, “I beg your pardon! I was not in a tizzy.”

“It certainly looked that way from where I’m standing.”

“Well just for that I won’t tell you.”

“Either way, I think I could wager a guess as to what it was,” Wade said with a wink. “There isn’t much that I would imagine would make your face heat up like that.”

“You’ve only known me for a few hours, how on earth would you know what might make me blush?” Peter shot back, and despite all his air of confidence he could feel his traitorous cheeks start to heat up under Wade’s gaze.

“Well, it is our wedding night, and I won’t lie and say I haven’t been considering that fact all evening.” Although he had been maintaining eye contact, Wade let his eyes drift down Peter’s body for a moment before continuing, “So, if you are anything at all like me, then you’ve probably thought about it quite a bit too, and I would imagine your aunt has as well, given that she’s been in a similar situation.”

Peter floundered for a moment, infinitely glad nobody stood within earshot. “Well- I, I mean, you… You should- if you, that is, if I had been thinking about it, not to say that I have spent a lot of time thinking about it, but if I had, then it wouldn’t be absolutely…that is to say, it wouldn't be completely outrageous and inappropriate, because it is our wedding night, and you’re quite attractive, if you’ll forgive me saying so, and, well, what I mean is that… I- you- me and you-”

“Relax, Peter,” Wade interrupted with a laugh, which was probably an act of mercy given how embarrassingly Peter was behaving. Peter grimaced, glad for the interjection, and sucked down a mouthful of wine from his goblet to occupy himself. “No need to work yourself up. I’m sorry for teasing you.”

“No need to be sorry. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, and I think I’ve just gotten into my own head about it.”

After a moment’s pause, Waide said, “Well then, let’s end the waiting.” Peter must have looked completely aghast, because Wade quickly continued, “We’ve both been waiting a long time, and people almost never stay until the end of their marriage feast, so let’s go ask our respective kings for their leave and stop waiting. People can keep the party going down here while we,” at which point he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “go move our party upstairs and into your chambers.”

Peter considered for a moment, weighing his options, before deciding, “Let’s do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you SO MUCH to those that have commented. You are all so kind. The next chapter is going to get into some hot and heavy action, which isn't something I have much writing experience with, so it might take a quick minute for me to update. If anyone knows of any fics that they think dealt with it well please feel free to shoot them my way. Obviously I don't want to copy what someone else did, but if I have a sense of what people like/look for in those kinds of scenes I'll have a better idea of what to aim for.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words about the last chapter and your patience while I wrote this one <3 Like I said at the last chapter, this isn't something I'm used to writing, but hopefully I'll get better with practice, and I think for a first scene it's not too shabby.

Thomas was the visiting king and the father of the alpha, so Peter and Wade went to him first. He was clearly drunk, and waved them off before Peter had a chance to get through any pleasantries. Wade merely nodded and ushered Peter away, their linked arms making it impossible for Peter to stay behind. He shot Wade a questioning look, but the hard-set of his jaw made him change his mind. When they approached Aunt May and Uncle Ben, who were chatting amicably with a few members of court, they were received with wide smiles.

“My Lord, my Lady.” Wade greeted the king and queen with a bow, “I wanted to say goodnight before the Prince and I retired.”

“So early?” May asked with a raised eyebrow and a conspiratorial sideways glance at Peter. “Are you not enjoying the party?”

“Oh, I am enjoying the party very much, but your nephew has been all over me all evening, and has made it impossible for me to enjoy my own wedding. The sooner he is satisfied the sooner I can get back to drinking and revelry.” Peter squawked in indignation and swatted at Wade’s arm.

“Well in that case, you’d better hurry,” Uncle Ben said, laughing good naturedly before Peter could set the record straight.

Wade nodded in mock seriousness and bowed to the reigning pair. Aunt May leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Peter’s temple and gently squeezing his shoulder, before shooing the pair out of the great hall. They received a number of wide smiles and raised glasses on their way out, but soon they were alone in the hallway. They walked, wordlessly, through the corridor and up a wide staircase that led to Peter’s chambers. Soon, the heat of the hall and the anticipation evaporated, and Peter was left feeling an impending wave of panic as they drew closer to his rooms. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to bond with Wade, because he did. It was just that Wade was so much bigger than him, and Peter had no experience. He knew what to expect of course, but he didn’t know if that made it worse or better. He knew what to do, but what if he did it wrong? What if he wasn’t any good? It would hurt, certainly, no matter what Wade did. He had been taught how his body would work to accommodate an alpha, but it was all hypothetical. He was completely unfamiliar with the processes his tutors and his aunt had described, and it all sounded very uncomfortable and unceasingly embarrassing. Sure, looking at Wade’s broad frame and thinking how he must look undressed made Peter weak in the knees and- gods help him- a bit damp, but not to the extent that had been described. What if it didn’t happen? That would make it hurt all the more than it would otherwise. Or what if it happened too much? Everything would get so wet and sticky and certainly it wouldn’t smell particularly pleasant, and-

“Peter?” Wade asked, mere steps before they reached the door. “Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” Peter croaked, his voice betraying him. He cleared his throat and tried again, “I’m alright. Really.”

Wade’s brow creased but he said nothing, instead taking a few steps before pulling the door open and holding it, unwinding their arms and gesturing for Peter to go ahead. Peter tried to smile in thanks as he entered the threshold, but he suspected it came out as more of a pained grimace. Peter bypassed the receiving room and headed straight for the bedroom, which had been prepared prior to their arrival. There was a fire in the hearth, and wine on a cart with crystal-clear glasses, as well as various vials and jars in case Peter’s fears of his body being unable to do what it was meant to proved to be true. Wade said nothing, merely followed Peter in and closed the door behind him. He marched to the cart and poured a glass of wine, black in the firelight. He handed it to Peter before pouring one for himself, downing it in its entirety before Peter had even raised his own to his lips.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, noting the tension in the alpha’s shoulders.

Wade cleared his throat before speaking, “Yeah, I’m fine. So I suppose you’ll want me behind you?”

Which, alright, that stung a bit. Peter supposed it made sense, and he shouldn’t have assumed, but he had thought at least for their first time they would face each other. Maybe it was an overly romantic notion. But at the end of the day, Wade was an alpha and mounting him was much more dominant than what Peter had imagined might have happened, and Peter should have suspected he would prefer it that way. But he had sounded so flippant, and when they were downstairs Peter had thought Wade was much more interested. That he had wanted Peter, rather than seeing it as his duty or a requirement. Although, Peter supposed, it was. He nodded and took a few quick gulps of his wine before setting the cup down, reaching his arms over his head for the buttons along his back. Normally he’d have no trouble with them, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t get a grip on them.

“Here,” Wade said, taking pity on him and walking around to stand behind him, carefully undoing the trail of buttons himself.

“Thank you,” Peter said gratefully. It was embarrassing enough as it was, but it was worse to be unable to undress himself.

Wade was quiet for a moment, deftly unfastening the buttons. When he was nearly done, and Peter could have easily slipped the garment off, he heard a quiet, “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“Sorry? What for?”

“I’m sure I’m not what you had hoped for.” He sounded so sad, so mournful it made Peter’s heart break a bit. “I can’t imagine it’s easy, knowing you’re stuck with me. I’m going to try to make up for it.”

Peter tried to turn and face him, but Wade held on to the back of his shirt just below the shoulder blades, and the tightness of his hold made Peter pause. “Of course you’re what I hoped for. I waited for you, didn’t I?”

“And I’ll thank you for that until the day I die.” Wade stepped closer, still holding Peter by the shirt, and pressed his nose into Peter’s hair for the second time that day. “But you didn’t know what I would look like when I came back, and by then it would have looked bad for you to back out. I know I’m hard to look at. I won’t ask you to look when we mate. We can get it done quickly and I’ll leave.”

“Wade-” Peter started, trying to shrug out of his shirt so he could turn, only to have Wade wrap his thick arms around his shoulders and hold him still against his chest.

“Please, just a minute.” Wade spoke into Peter’s hair, his voice muffled slightly, but not enough so that Peter couldn’t hear it shake. “I won’t hold you during. I’ll touch you as little as possible. I just… I need this. I promise I’ll leave you alone after.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone after.” Peter said, resting his hands softly on Wade’s forearms. “That’s the opposite of what I want.”

Wade’s scent turned sour and he said, “You don’t have to lie to me. I appreciate the thought, but I’d rather the ugly truth to a pretty lie.”

“I’m not lying, I-”

“Oh please, I saw your face when I got out of the carriage this morning. You looked like you might have been sick at the sight of me. When we got up the stairs you could hardly even look at me.”

“I was nervous!” Peter renewed his wiggling, catching Wade enough by surprise that he was able to twist in his hold. He didn’t shrug the arms around him off, instead wrapping his own around Wade’s torse to keep him from flinching away. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long, and you’re so much bigger than me, and handsome, and I was anxious to start with, and I didn't want to gawk because it would have been inappropriate to drool on the steps!” He leaned his head forward to rest his forehead on Wade’s chest, unable to continue meeting Wade’s steely gaze. “Please, don’t leave after. And don’t touch me as little as possible.” He started to squirm, mounting embarrassment and the feeling of Wade’s eyes on him making his face heat up. “I want you to… I need you to- I mean, I’d like it very much if you would…”

“Touch you?” Wade offered, graciously ending Peter’s uncomfortable request.

“Please.”

Wade said nothing, merely dragged Peter to the chaise at the foot of the bed. He sat, dragging Peter unceremoniously onto his lap. Wade was warm beneath him, and his thighs were solid between his legs. He shifted his weight from knee to knee, his awkwardness mounting, and refused to sink down to rest his weight fully onto Wade’s lap. That, apparently, was unacceptable, as Wade took a firm hold of Peter’s waist and dragged him forward and downward, prompting Peter to let out a very undignified squeak as he was settled firmly against Wade’s chest and thighs. Without a word, Wade finished unfastening Peter’s shirt and looked to him for approval before sliding it off. Peter was left in his undershirt, and Wade waited to pull it off until after he had removed his own. 

When their chests were bare, Peter chanced a look. Wade was as muscled as Peter had imagined, if not more so. He lay a careful palm in the center of Wade’s chest, moving it cautiously and feeling the muscles shift underneath the uneven skin. As he investigated, Wade placed his hands on Peter’s hips, rubbing gentle circles into the protruding bones with his thumbs. Peter flinched at first contact, not expecting the weight and the warmth, but he quickly settled and enjoyed the contact. When the feeling of unease at being half undressed faded, Wade moved his hands from Peter’s hips to his upper back, pulling him to his chest. He stiffened at first, but the feeling of Wade’s breath on his neck quickly had him relaxing against the heat of Wade’s body. For a few breaths Wade merely nosed at the spot where his neck and shoulder connected, inhaling deeply and running his hands up and down Peter’s back. When he seemed satisfied that Peter was comfortable with the position and the situation, he placed a chaste kiss to where his bite would go.

That, apparently, was the go button. Peter mewled, completely not of his own volition, and felt a warm patch begin to materialize at the seat of his pants. Horrified, he tried to pull away, but Wade had anticipated his reaction and held him firmly, one hand around his waist and another pressed into the space between his shoulder blades. Peter continued to squirm on instinct, not wanting Wade to have any knowledge of what was happening in his trousers, but he was held fast. Instead of letting him budge even an inch, Wade pressed another kiss to Peter’s neck. This one was not so chaste. It was open-mouthed and hot, the wetness of Wade’s tongue lingering even after he had removed his lips. Peter let out another whine, doubling his efforts to wrestle his way out of Wade’s lap as the patch grew.

“Settle,” Wade said, his voice several octaves deeper than the last time he had spoken. It was not a command, and Peter could have disobeyed if he had wished, but he stilled nonetheless. Wade received Peter’s choice to obey with a pleased grumble, emanating from deep in his chest.

“It’s gross,” Peter complained softly, blood burning his skin from his chest to his ears. “I’ll ruin your trousers.”

With seemingly no need to consider, Wade replied, “Then let’s take them off.”

Peter gaped, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Logically he had known that was going to happen eventually anyway, but the offer stalled his brain anyway. He stuttered a nod, and raised himself up onto his knees so Wade could slide out of his pants. He left his underwear, which was tight and made certain outlines stand out in stark contrast. While he was up, Wade slid Peter’s pants down his legs, and helped him balance on one leg at a time so they could be fully removed. Once again, they matched.

When Peter settled back down, Wade replaced his arms around his torso and his face to his neck, while Peter was left to cling to Wade’s upper arms. He pressed a few more open-mouthed kisses to Peter’s neck and chest, before deciding to change it up once more. When he used his tongue to leave a strip along the side of Peter’s throat, he couldn’t bite back the groan. In response, Wade moved the hand that he had placed on his back down to firmly grip at the meat of his ass, causing Peter to let another undignified noise slip out. He could feel Wade smile against his skin, which did little to assuage his embarrassment. Wade pulled away from the crook of Peter’s neck, taking stock of how pink the other had turned. They looked at each other for a moment, Wade never ceasing his grip of Peter’s rear, before Peter leaned forward and captured Wade’s mouth with his own. He moved his arms to circle them around Wade’s neck, pulling him closer and trying to ignore the warm puddle forming, which was undoubtedly soaking through his underwear to Wade’s legs.

Apparently, it didn’t bother Wade as much as it did Peter. When Peter moved his arms so did Wade, letting his other hand join the other at his partner’s rear. He squeezed and kneaded both cheeks, spreading them and allowing more wetness to seep out. Instead of repelling him, like Peter was worried it would, it seemed to only spur him on further. The force of the kiss made Peter dizzy, as did the growing length of hardness pressing against his inner thigh. At first, Peter didn’t notice he was moving, rubbing himself shameless against Wade, and only noticed when Wade’s hands slipped beneath the band of his underwear to settle and squeeze directly against his skin. 

Peter broke the kiss, opting instead to pant against Wade as he returned to mouthing at Peter’s throat. It seemed like maybe he wasn’t aware that he was moving as well, shifting his hips to meet Peter’s and making an increasing mess at the front of his underwear. He smelled so good it was unbelievable, and Peter didn’t consciously consider leaning down and latching his mouth onto the side of Wade’s neck until he was already there. He gnawed on the muscle there, with enough force to leave the skin a deep pink but not enough to break it. Wade growled, not in warning but in encouragement, and Peter leaned down further to taste the skin at the hollow of his throat. Wade leaned his head back, unable to satiate his apparent obsession with Peter’s neck due to the position, and instead allowed Peter to travel up and down his own, leaving a trail of pink, wet skin in his wake. Peter ran his tongue along a ridge of scar tissue along Wade’s collarbone, prompting a full-body shiver and a low rumble. The sound made Peter purr without meaning to and grind himself more firmly against Wade.

Wade leaned his head forward again, capturing Peter once again. It was a good thing, because Peter nearly wailed when Wade moved the fingers of one of his hands down from the meat of Peter’s ass to the space between his cheeks. He had almost gotten used to the sensation of being absolutely sopping, because at that point he was, but the addition of Wade’s hand brought his attention back to it. He had thought any intrusion would be painful, but the first of Wade’s thick fingers slipped in without any resistance or pain. Peter couldn’t help his eyes rolling back in his head a bit or the breathy moan, both of which encouraged Wade to slowly remove the finger before sliding it back in. Peter clung to Wade’s shoulders, trying to control the jerking of his hips with little success. It didn’t help matters that Wade moved with him, sliding their hips together with the strength of one hand still grasping and kneading its prize. Before long, a second finger joined the first, then a third, which provided just enough of a stretch to shock Peter out of his haze. He whimpered into Wade’s mouth, but Wade swallowed the sound and pressed his fingers deeper.

“Wade,” Peter whined, breaking the kiss and resting his head on Wade’s shoulder, his hips still moving without his permission.

“Peter,” Wade growled, his voice gravelly and deep.

“Please,” he begged, not sure what he was asking for. Thankfully Wade didn’t ask him to clarify, instead lifting them both from the chaise with seemingly no extra effort than it would have taken to lift a tea cup, prompting Peter to wind his legs around Wade’s waist. He didn’t remove his fingers, instead allowing gravity to pull Peter down further onto them. It seemed as soon as they were up they were back down, with Peter on his back, pressed between Wade and the mattress. His legs were still wound and he made no effort to extract them, instead opting to use them to help leverage his hips up and against Wade’s hand.

Wade, blast him, removed his hands and unwound Peter’s ankles from their place in the small of his back. Peter could have screamed. Or cried. He pulled away just long enough to rip Peter’s underwear off and toss them aside, where they landed in a wet heap in the corner, and to shove his own down to kick them off. Peter reached for him, trying to wind his way back around him like a vine, but Wade grabbed his wrists and gathered them in one hand, holding them above Peter’s head. Peter whined in protest and tried to pull their bodies together using his legs, but Wade wouldn’t budge. He leaned down, capturing one of Peter’s nipples in his mouth, prompting a broken, stuttering moan. Peter jerked his hips, desperate for something, anything, praying to the gods that Wade would continue doing what he had been doing with his fingers. Apparently, the gods had a sense of humor. Instead of staying where he was or returning to his rightful place at Peter’s throat, Wade decided to torture Peter by leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the center of his chest and down his stomach. Peter felt hot and wet and he needed something but instead Wade was teasing him. It was unbearable.

“Wade,” he whined, impatiently. “Please.” Wade, may his soul rot, merely looked up at him innocently and continued his trail down Peter’s abdomen where he had no business being. There was nothing for him there. Peter honestly couldn’t fathom why he was wasting any time. It was when Wade licked a stripe from his hipbone to the base of his cock that something clicked in Peter and he realized.

“Wade,” Peter all but screeched, squeezing his thighs together and pushing Wade’s head away.

“What?” Wade asked, allowing himself to be pushed away with no resistance.

“You can’t possibly think to do that to me,”

“Why not?” Wade asked. Peter gaped, unable for a moment to think of anything to say. Wade didn’t wait for him to figure it out. “I won’t if you really don’t want me to, but it’ll feel good.”

“I mean, you can’t possibly-”

“I can,” Wade interrupted, “I assure you I can.”

Peter considered for a moment, before he said, “There’s no way you’d actually enjoy that.”

“I think that’s up to me to decide.” Wade leaned down and bit gently into Peter’s thigh, prompting a groan. “I can always stop if you want me to.”

“Well,” Peter figured it would be good to prove him wrong sooner than later. “I suppose. Alright.” Wade smiled and gently pried Peter’s thighs apart, giving him time to change his mind. When Peter made no move to stop him, he repeated the action that prompted Peter’s realization, leaving a warm and wet trail from hip to groin. Peter sighed despite himself and let his head fall back onto the mattress, resigned to letting Wade realize how completely ridiculous what he wanted to do was.

When Wade took him into his mouth, Peter’s mind went blank. He was aware, distantly, that he was making some sort of high keening noise, and he felt his fingers dig into Wade’s scalp although he had made no effort to command them. Wade bobbed his head once, then twice, then his fingers were back at Peter’s entrance. 

“Wa-a-ade,” Peter groaned, stuck between moving his hips down to meet Wade’s fingers and up to meet his mouth. As the feeling of pressure increased, he found he had increasingly less control over his body, gripping the back of Wade’s head with shaking fingers and moving his hips. He could feel the movement of Wade’s shoulder against his leg, and when Peter peered down to investigate it became clear that Wade had taken himself in hand. Peter couldn’t see it well with Wade in the way, but the sight of it- stiff and red- made him desperate for more than a few fingers.

“Wade, I need you. Please.”

He apparently needed no more cajoling than that. Wade removed himself with a wet pop, leaving his fingers where they were until he had crawled up Peter’s body. He arranged Peter’s legs so his knees were hooked up over his shoulders and leaned forward until Peter was practically in half, and Peter wondered in the back of his mind whether he should be embarrassed by the vulnerable position. Before he had a chance to devote any real thought to it, Wade slid in. Peter whined, leading Wade to kiss Peter delicately along his jaw while keeping his hips still. It clearly took effort not to move. Peter could feel Wade’s thighs shaking with the struggle. When he felt like he would not shatter, Peter urged Wade on by digging his heels into Wade’s back. Wade moved slowly at first, his hands holding both Peter’s thighs for leverage and to keep him still while he shallowly thrust his hips forward and back.

“Peter, gods,” Wade moaned into his neck, mouthing at the spot where he would soon bite down. He shifted slightly, putting his arms on either side of Peter’s head to better distribute his weight, which allowed him to reach a somehow deeper angle. Peter mewled and held onto Wade’s forearms, lifting his hips to meet Wade in the middle. His response spurred Wade on and he picked up the pace and the strength, nailing a spot within Peter that made his vision go spotty. For a moment, Peter was unaware of any conscious thought- only the desire to chase a growing feeling of heat and need. Wade started moving more erratically and quickly, mouthing with decidedly more purpose at the base of his neck.

“Wade,” Peter groaned, the words coming from deep in his chest, “I’m- I need…” There was something he needed that he didn’t have, and it was blocking him from getting where he needed to be. The pressure and the heat in his gut was starting to be infuriating rather than pleasant, and if it didn’t resolve soon he felt like he might cry from the frustration of it. 

“Tell me, Omega.” Wade demanded. Where he had previously been gentle and slow, he was now driving into Peter at a pace he could hardly keep up with. Instead of trying to answer, Peter opted to dig his fingernails into the meat of Wade’s arms and shoulders, leaving angry red scratches in their wake. Wade growled, baring his teeth.

“Ohhh,” Peter whined, shuddering at the display. Encouraged, Wade did it again. When he got the same enthusiastic reaction, he pressed the tips of his teeth into Peter’s throat, pressing them in hard enough to pose a real threat of breaking skin. Peter could feel Wade swelling at the prospect of biting, and oh my that was good. That could be enough.

“Alpha,” Peter begged, using a hand to press Wade’s head in closer. At that, Wade released a full-body snarl directly into Peter’s skin, prompting Peter to release a stream of alphas and pleases until the words stopped making any sense. 

When the swelling at the base of Wade’s cock threatened to tear Peter open should he remove it, Wade bit. Peter could register the pain of teeth tearing his skin, but his orgasm and the feeling of Wade spilling inside him made the pain seem inconsequential. He couldn’t help the choked-out whine, but Wade’s growl dwarfed any sound he could have made. He spasmed despite himself, tugging enough at Wade’s knot to make him groan. Wade gently rolled them to their sides to avoid crushing him as they caught their breath, careful not to jostle them so as to avoid pulling at the tie.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, still riding the waves of the coupling. More than once Wade leaned his head forward to nuzzle at Peter’s neck, pressing gentle kisses to the bite. Peter purred, both at the attention and to reassure Wade that he was alright. When Wade was satisfied and pulled away Peter caught him in a slow, leisurely kiss before he could get far. When Peter’s head had cleared enough to register the feeling of various fluids rapidly cooling on his skin, he reached behind him, groping for the bedside table, and retrieved a cloth left there just for this purpose. He cleaned them both, spending extra time on Wade’s flat stomach to make sure there was nothing left behind. Wade gently carded his fingers through Peter’s hair while he worked, smoothing down what was unquestionably an untamed mess. Ignoring how disgusting it would be to deal with in the morning, Peter tossed the cloth over his shoulder to join their abandoned clothes on the floor.

He regretted getting rid of it, not even twenty minutes later. When Wade’s knot had reduced in size sufficiently enough to remove it he slipped it out, which allowed an ungodly amount of slick and semen to leak out. Peter shuddered at the feeling and turned to retrieve the discarded cloth, but Wade quickly gathered Peter to his chest, nostril flaring at the scent.

“Wade,” Peter complained, “I’ve got to grab the cloth. This is disgusting. It’s sticky and I’m going to smell to high heaven in the morning if I don’t clean all this off my thighs.”

“Good,” Wade responded simply, tucking Peter under his chin, “you’ll smell like me.”

Peter shook his head admonishingly against Wade’s chest and said, “Everyone knows we’re mated, Wade. The whole kingdom knows. Even if they didn’t, I have your bite. There’s no need to scent mark me”

Instead of agreeing and releasing him, Wade simply argued, “It isn’t for the whole kingdom. I want you to smell like me for my own twisted pleasures.” Peter could have sworn he could feel the smirk even from where he lay pressed against Wade’s chest.

“Deviant.” 

“You didn’t seem to mind me being a deviant when you legs were wrapped around my head.” Peter leaned away and scowled, swatting Wade on the arm in protest. Wade was clearly unmoved, still smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. Peter tried to wiggle out of Wade’s hold, but to no avail. Logically, Peter knew that it probably wouldn’t work, but he flashed his significantly smaller fangs and performed his best growl. It did not have the desired effect whatsoever. Instead of releasing him, Wade rolled back on top of him, caging him in with an arm on either side.

“Do that again and I’ll have to get back down there,” Wade promised, the glint in his eye assuring Peter he meant it. Peter stilled momentarily, but did not completely give up. He would clean himself, damn it. He tried playing submissive for a moment, then twisted under Wade’s arm and tried to crawl the rest of the way out before he could be stopped.

He should have known it wouldn’t work. Wade grabbed him by the waist and twisted him so his back was to Wade’s chest, then pushed him down so his shoulders met the bed with his hips still canted into the air. He growled again, struggling to free himself, but Wade pressed one firm hand to the back of his neck and used the others to secure his wrists to the mattress.

“You’re not getting out of bed, Peter,” Wade said, acting the part of the dominant alpha with no actual command behind it. When Peter relented and stilled, Wade lightened his grip on Peter’s neck, stroking softly with his thumb. “If you want to be clean so badly, I’ll do it myself.”

Peter sighed, content in his victory. Wade removed his hands and Peter stayed where he was, willing to remain in the less-than-dignified pose if it meant getting his way. He could feel the mattress shift as Wade moved, and simply assumed that Wade was retrieving the disposed cloth. When Wade’s weight settled and he gently pulled the cheeks of his ass apart, Peter figured there would be a gentle press of fabric.

Not for the first time that evening, he assumed wrong. The first stripe of Wade tongue over his still-sensitive bud had Peter lurching forward. He didn’t get far- Wade had apparently anticipated this and held him fast. The second lick travelled from the inside of his thigh up to his perineum. Peter scrabbled at the bedsheets and was already panting, releasing pitiful whines every time the warm press of Wade’s tongue met skin. Wade moved from thigh to thigh, not missing a single inch of skin until he reached Peter’s balls- those apparently needed extra attention. He traced the curve of Peter’s sack with the tip of his tongue, drawing a series of pathetic whimpers and gasps when he sucked there. When he was satisfied, Wade removed himself and travelled further upward, trading between lapping and gently nipping at Peter’s loose hole. Peter yelped at every contact, although he tried his best to muffle the sounds in the blankets, going so far as to stuff a corner of fabric into his mouth to curb the traitorous sounds that left without his consent. Wade cleaned slick as it leaked from Peter, the stimulation causing its continuing production despite the previous round. Peter didn’t think it was possible to orgasm again so soon after the first, but when Wade’s tongue dipped past the ring of muscle his vision went blank and he came with a shout.

When Peter became aware of his surroundings, he was bundled up and pressed against Wade once again. There was a suspicious lack of the top blanket, but he was warm and comfortable despite its absence. Wade gently petted Peter’s hair with one hand while the other traced lazy patterns into the skin of his hip. Peter blinked slowly up at him, his mind still fuzzy, and Wade returned his soft gaze with a smile. When Peter had nothing snarky to say Wade leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to his forehead, inhaling deeply. Peter left a trail of light kisses along Wade’s chest, travelling up his neck to his jaw, then to his mouth.

Between kisses, Wade asked, “You alright?”

Peter smiled into Wade’s mouth, unable to pretend to be annoyed, and said, “More than alright. ‘M good.”

“I was worried for a minute I might have pushed you too far.”

“I knew I could have told you to stop.” A few kisses, then, “Was I okay?”

“What do you mean?” Wade asked, separating despite Peter’s protests.

“You know, was I good? I know it was good for me- really good- but for you? I don’t want it to just be about me.”

“It’s always about you. I want you to feel good,”

“I did. I do,” Peter promised, laying a gentle hand on Wade’s neck as he spoke. “But I want you to feel good too.”

“You were great, baby boy. I think I saw the face of god for a second.”

Peter blushed, both at the praise and the nickname. He snuggled closer, hiding his face against Wade’s skin. Wade allowed it, pulling the blankets more snugly around them and wrapping his arms around Peter’s much smaller frame. Peter listened to Wade’s steady heartbeat, and felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and smelled his contentment. Before long, he sank into heavy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if you're looking for a really good abo spideypool fic one of my favorites is Feral by MsCaptainWinchester. I must have read it about a half dozen times by now. Hopefully the next chapter isn't far off, but it'll probably depend on my motivation (which is, as I'm sure everyone is aware from their own experience, hugely dependent on the reception of this chapter). lmk what you think (feedback helps me figure out what works :) )


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you SO MUCH to all the people who commented on the last chapter. You are all so kind it's unbelievable. 
> 
> Second, this chapter is probably the longest of any of them (about half of the existing word count, nearly 20 pages), but I couldn't find a good place to break it up. So. There's a lot happening in this chapter, but hopefully not so much that things get lost. Maybe I'll go back and break it up now that I have it out of my system, but probably not. I gotta get that degree and writing at 2 am about Peter giving Wade a bj doesn't give me any college credit. Unfortunate.

When Peter woke up, the room was dark and the fire had been reduced to glowing embers. The jostling of the bed had woken him, and he became more aware as he came into consciousness that Wade was turning from one side to the other, from his back to his front, huffing in annoyance and clearly unable to get comfortable.

“Wade?” Peter asked, his voice husky from sleep and its earlier heavy use. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Wade assured him, leaning over and pressing a firm kiss to Peter’s forehead.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Peter argued. “Are you cold? I can build the fire back up for you.”

“No, no, it isn’t cold.”

“Then what is it?”

Wade was silent for a few moments, seeming to debate whether or not to say anything. Quietly, almost embarrassed, he said, “It’s the mattress.”

“What’s wrong with the mattress?”

“It’s too soft. I’d go down to the floor but I didn’t want you to have any anxiety if you woke up and didn’t see me,” Wade explained. Peter sat up and considered this for a moment. Wade made a good point- if he had woken up and not seen Wade, even if he realized only a few moments later that Wade was just out of sight and hadn’t actually left, he probably would have been upset. They had just bonded, after all. For the next few days any considerable distance would likely be troubling. 

Without a word, Peter slid out of bed and ignored Wade’s protests that, no, it’s okay, go back to sleep, I’ll be fine and started pulling pillows and blankets down onto the floor next to the bed. Once he had smoothed down the first blanket, Peter looked to Wade and gestured that he should get off the bed.

“Peter,” Wade objected, “I don’t want to sleep away from you. I know we’d only be a few feet apart, but-”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Peter interrupted, “I’m sleeping down here with you.”

Wade didn’t respond, but Peter could see the gears in his head turning. Peter stood with his hands on his hips, daring Wade to try to convince him not to move out of bed. He didn’t. Instead, he climbed out and lay down onto the blanket without a word. Peter settled next to him, and pulled a second blanket on top of them, then proceeded to curl himself around the alpha. Wade still didn’t say anything, but curled his arms around Peter and tugged him closer. Peter rubbed his cheek over Wade’s chest and let himself be held, but didn’t let himself fall back asleep until Wade’s breathing evened out and he started to softly snore.

\---

Wade woke up to light pressing softly against his eyelids. As he dragged himself out of sleep he could feel Peter’s fingertips gently tracing a particularly prominent ridge of scar tissue along his chest. Without opening his eyes, Wade lifted the hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the palm, earning a hum from Peter in return.

“How did you sleep?” Peter asked.

“Best I’ve slept in months,” Wade replied honestly. There was nothing quite like having a happy mate pressed up against you to keep you sleeping soundly. “How about you?”

“Good, thank you.” Even with Wade’s eyes still closed, he could tell Peter was looking at him. He opened one eye to confirm his suspicions, and was proven correct. Peter’s gaze was as soft as his smile, and he leaned down to press a kiss to the spot over Wade’s heart. 

“How’s your neck?” Wade asked, eyeing the puffy bite mark.

“It’s sore, but not too bad.”

Wade furrowed his brow and sat up, leaning against the side of the bed. He hauled Peter up to sit in his lap, the blanket pooling around their naked waists, and gently traced the wound. Peter winced at first contact although he tried his best to hide it, clearly not wanting Wade to feel guilty. He did.

“The bond is strong,” Peter offered, sensing the failure of his attempt. “I can feel it. Can you?”

“Yes,” Wade laid his palm over his chest, “Right here.” 

Peter grinned and wrapped his arms around Wade’s middle as he leaned in, pressing a kiss against the corner of Wade’s mouth before fitting his head into the crook of his shoulder. Wade leaned his head to the side to better accommodate him and let his hands traverse the expanse of Peter’s back. They sat in silence for a moment, content in the silence, until Wade’s stomach started to rumble quite insistently. Peter chuckled and tightened his grip for a moment before releasing, then rolled out of Wade’s lap and made his way to his closet. Wade sat and watched, content to delay breakfast if it meant watching Peter walk around without clothes on. 

“Come on,” Peter said with a laugh, clearly not at a similar level of contentment, “We need to get ready for breakfast.”

“Can’t we just have it brought up? Eat here?” Wade suggested, not entirely ready to share his mate with anyone, even if it would only be a small gathering.

“We can tomorrow. You know our families and the advisors have to see that you claimed me and that the bond took,” Peter fussed. It was true- Wade did know. The longer they delayed presenting the bond, the more room there was for argument that Wade hadn’t held up his end of the contract. That the obligations weren’t met. After all, until they had formed a permanent bond during Peter’s heat, their bond could be contested. Wade felt that Peter’s aunt and uncle liked him and approved of him, but he didn’t doubt for a second that they would contest the marriage contract if they felt he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to. There was also his own kingdom to contend with- his father’s advisors had no issue with Peter personally, but he had no doubt that they would love a chance to revisit the terms of the contract. The way it was now, there was room for Peter to be given some real power after they formed a permanent bond, rather than just a title and status. Wade suspected that they- Osbourn specifically- would try to convince Wade to keep Peter as no more than a glorified concubine, and the easiest way to start that process rolling was to fiddle with the terms of their marriage agreement. 

Wade sighed and stood, waltzing into the receiving room to retrieve a bag of clothes that had been left there the day before. He would have worn the same outfit as the day before with no complaints, save for a few key problems. The first being that they were soaked to hell in Peter’s smell, his underwear tacky along the front from dried slick. There was something about wearing clothes absolutely drenched in his mate’s scent that did something to Wade, but perhaps the day to indulge was not when they were to be surrounded by family and nobles. As endearing as seeing Peter blush was, Wade didn’t want to push him too far too soon. The second and substantially less important reason was that it was his wedding outfit, and although Wade himself had no qualms with re-wearing it, he suspected the powers-that-be wouldn’t appreciate it. 

Peter was already half dressed when Wade returned, and he hurried to catch up so as to not leave him waiting. When they were ready they left the bedroom and crossed the receiving room, but Wade paused before he opened the door.

“Peter,” Wade said hesitantly, “I think there’s a good possibility that the members of my father’s advisory board will try to throw a wrench in things. They’re smart, and good for the kingdom, but they can be… traditional, to a fault. I don’t think what happened yesterday with your vows- which were wonderful, by the way- will be a one-off deal. Osbourn especially is probably going to fight you every step.”

Wade hated how much Peter wilted as he spoke. He said, “I understand. I’ve known men like that all my life. I can be the subservient, good little omega.”

And oh, how that broke Wade’s heart. Shaking his head vehemently, he said, “Don’t be anything that you’re not. Speak up for yourself. I’ll be with you, and I’m not going to let them walk all over you.”

Peter didn’t respond, simply smiled and stood on his tiptoes to give Wade a kiss before opening his door. Wade didn’t think he imagined it when Peter’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. They walked arm in arm down the hall, heading to the king and queen’s apartments rather than directly to breakfast- undoubtedly they were waiting until the newly mated pair were ready before calling everyone together. 

When they reached the door to the receiving room, a guard bowed briefly to the pair and entered before them, announcing their arrival to the king and queen. When he returned he opened the door for them and stood to the side, allowing them entrance and being careful to show deference. The king and queen were already standing when Wade and Peter entered, cups of steaming tea abandoned and forgotten on their saucers. 

“Good morning,” they said in unison, foregoing subtlety in favor of peering at Peter’s neck. Peter grinned and leaned his head to the side, showing the mark off proudly. The smile on his face while he presented it filled Wade with an emotion he wasn’t familiar with and couldn’t quite name, but he found himself grinning and wrapping an arm around Peter nonetheless.

“Wonderful,” the queen said, grasping her hands together. “How are you two feeling?”

“Fantastic,” Peter told her, turning to smile up at Wade. “I’ve come across a previously undiscovered level of happiness.”

Wade couldn’t speak, stuck dumb by Peter’s beaming smile. His gaping was clearly enough of an answer, as he was not pressed to respond.

“If you’re ready for breakfast I’ll have everyone gathered in the parlor,” the king offered, not waiting for a response before ducking out to dispatch a servant. His wife was close behind him, taking Peter’s other arm and dragging the pair out of the room and into the hallway. She spoke quietly, directly into Peter’s ear, and although Wade couldn’t make out exactly what she said he figured he could pose a good guess based on the shade of pink Peter’s face reached.

“You are incorrigible!” Peter shrieked, disentangling his arm from the queen’s. “Uncle Ben, please come collect your wife before she gives me an ulcer.”

The king laughed and turned, taking his wife on his arm before turning on his heel and marching down the hall toward the parlor. The pairs walked a few paces apart, but Wade could hear Peter’s aunt and uncle tittering between themselves despite the distance.

“So,” Wade said conversationally, “what was that about?”

“Nothing.” Peter said shortly, his face still tinged pink.

“I highly doubt that,” Wade countered. Peter refused to respond, merely stewed silently and continued to blush. Wade shrugged, content to allow Peter to keep the comment to himself, at least for now.

Soon, they reached the parlor, where the trimmings of breakfast had already been laid out. A few members of the court were already there, standing a few steps from the table and chatting amongst themselves. They bowed once when the king and queen entered, and a second time when Peter and Wade appeared in the doorway. Again, Wade didn’t miss the barely-concealed looks to Peter’s throat. Jonah Jameson, a high-ranking member of Queensland’s court, approached them first. Wade distinctly felt Peter tense when the man approached, and so he tried to subtly edge his way in front.

“Prince Wade,” Jameson said, extending a hand. “Congratulations on your mating.”

“Thank you,” Wade said, squeezing the other man’s hand on just the other side of too firm. Jameson twitched at the pressure but didn’t say anything, no doubt expecting the display. Jameson made no move to address Peter, and was soon joined by more members of the court. Among them was Captain George Stacy, a man Wade recognized from the battlefront, and he was pleased to see him in attendance. 

“Your highness,” Stacy said, “good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Wade said, smiling a genuine smile and sharing a much more friendly handshake.

“Prince Peter,” Stacy said, bowing to Peter with a smile. “Congratulations on your bonding. I was so pleased to hear your marriage to Prince Wade was still on.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Peter said, his comfort with the man evident despite the structured conversation. “How’s your family?”

“Wonderful as always. Gwen asked me to send her apologies again that she couldn’t join the festivities last night.”

“Oh it’s quite alright. I know she has lots to do, and I’m sure I’ll see her soon.” Peter turned to Wade, clearly not wanting to exclude him. “Gwen Stacy is one of my closest friends. We grew up together. I know she desperately wanted to meet you before the marriage, but she’s training under a doctor in one of the provinces and couldn’t make it in time.”

Well, medicine, that’s good work,” Wade said. “You must be incredibly proud, Captain.”

“Oh I am,” he agreed, beaming. “My Gwen has always been so smart.”

“She used to help me all the time when we were young and I couldn’t figure out what my tutors were talking about,” Peter added. “One time she-”

He was interrupted when Thomas Wilson, flanked by Norman Osbourn, came marching into the room. Peter quickly silenced himself, along with everyone else in the room. They bowed to various depths depending on their rank, and the king paused long enough to send a stilted bow to the hosting royalty before making his way to his son.

“Well?” he asked, not wasting time with formalities. Peter said nothing, clearly understanding that the king had no interest in pleasantries, and tilted his head to the side to show off the bite. It was slightly obscured by his shirt, and Osbourn reached for Peter’s shirt collar to pull it to the side for a better view.

His hand never reached Peter’s skin. Wade snatched him at the wrist, holding him in a tight grip. He had moved without really thinking about it, and was growling despite his better judgement.

“Wade...” Peter said softly, no doubt embarrassed that Wade would take such liberties with the advisor to the king. Wade wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t pay him any mind.

“Try touching him again and you lose the hand,” Wade said, squeezing hard. He had to fight to keep the cloud of red at the corners of his vision from blinding him completely. Wade almost expected his father to intervene, but he had all the looks of a bad hangover and he made no move to intercept his son.

“Of course, your highness. My apologies,” Osbourn said, grimacing. He clearly hated saying it, but they all knew Wade ranked above him. If the king wouldn’t defend him, Osbourn didn’t have a leg to stand on. Wade released him, and felt a deep-sated satisfaction to see that the skin around Osbourn’s wrist was already bruising. He wrapped an arm around Peter’s middle, not caring for decorum or polite practices of touch, and tugged him to his side. Peter went willingly, and Wade made a mental note to apologize later.

“Shall we eat?” Peter’s uncle asked, breaking the silence. The spell was broken, and everyone quickly gathered around the table and sat. The two kings sat on opposite ends, and Peter and Wade sat next to each other on Thomas’ end. Wade would have rather put more distance between Peter and Osbourn, but Peter fell under Wade’s authority and Wade fell under his father’s, so they sat closer to him. There weren’t many in attendance, so even if they had sat with Peter’s family they still would have been close, but Wade was hesitant to give up even a few feet of space. 

Thankfully, the rest of breakfast passed peacefully and without incident. Discussions of the previous evening’s party and the celebrations yet to come dominated most of the conversation, as well as plans for when the visiting party would return to Victoria. Almost everyone would leave at the end of the week, while Wade and a small contingent of soldiers would stay behind until after Peter’s heat, and then they would return to Victoria together. They had a general idea of when it would hit, but no exact date, and nobody wanted Peter to go into heat on the road. Peter was mostly quiet, although Wade chalked it up to him being too busy eating to talk. Wade was similarly focused- he spoke up when he was directly addressed, but he was incredibly hungry after last night’s activities, and the breakfast included many of his favorite foods. There were things about Victoria that he liked better than Queensland, but you couldn’t beat the breakfast. 

Breakfast was almost finished when Piotr Nikolayevich entered the parlor. He was an absolutely massive man- a true colossus- even compared to Wade, and had been a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Piotr was originally from Baikal in the east and had defected when the government tried to draft him into their brute squad. Instead of terrorizing innocent villagers, Piotr escaped under cover of darkness and ended up in Victoria, where he was happy to fight alongside native Victorian soldiers against the eastern kingdoms during the war. His moral compass sometimes got in the way of Wade’s more fast and loose style of warfare, but he was a good man and Wade considered him to be a friend.

Piotr bowed deeply to the group before addressing Wade in a thick accent, “Your highness. A word?”

Wade nodded and excused himself, pressing a hand on Peter’s shoulder as he passed in an attempt to comfort him. Piotr was an intimidating presence, and Wade didn’t doubt that Peter had tensed because of the appearance of the imposing alpha in the doorway.

“What is it?” Wade asked once the doors had closed behind them.

“Ajax. You sent him to the dungeons last night?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that,” Wade fussed, hating the obnoxious nickname. “Yeah, I did. He was about fifteen seconds from assaulting the prince. If you’re about to fuss at me for how I imagine he looks right now, save it. I wish I had beaten him to death, the slimy rat bastard. Two more minutes and I would have-”

“Wade,” Piotr interrupted, which was odd. Piotr was normally very patient with Wade’s ramblings, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with the content. “He’s gone.”

“He’s dead? Thank god. When they toss the corpse out, would you be a lamb and make sure it lands in a pile of horse shit?”

“No, Wade. He escaped. Someone got him out.”

Wade paused for a moment, before chuckling, “I’m sorry, I think your English is still a bit spotty after all these years. Not your fault, pal. Happens to the best of us.”

“One of the soldiers- Victorian or Queenslandic I don’t know yet- managed to smuggle him out,” Piotr continued, not paying Wade’s dismissal any mind. “They drugged the guards and got him out of the castle sometime before dawn.”

Wade was silent, trying to wrap his head around what Piotr had said. Last night, before Peter had moved them onto the floor, Wade had considered sneaking down to the dungeons and slitting Francis’ throat, but had talked himself out of it. There would be time, and when the day came for him to kill that scumbag, he wanted it to be a much more theatrical, public execution. Now, Francis was gone, mere hours after Wade had decided not to kill him. He and some two-timing soldier had cheated Wade out of a fantastic killing. He would have to move fast to catch him and whoever had gotten him out.

“Talk to the guards, figure out who had any contact with Francis before he escaped. See to the chefs who handled the guard’s food, and the servants who delivered it. Figure out if there are any soldiers missing.”

“I can get most of that done, but there are hundreds of soldiers in the castle. It will take some time to round them all up and start doing head counts.”

Wade spoke through his teeth, “Get everyone on it. Harry Osbourn, Logan, Summers- hell, get Charles on it. He’s a fucking dinsaur but he gets the job done.”

“If Ajax-” at Wade’s glare, Piotr corrected, “If Francis tried assaulting the prince, we should put an extra contingent of soldiers on the two of you.”

“I can protect Peter just fine,” Wade growled. Piotr crossed his arms and looked down at Wade, which he didn’t appreciate, so he tried supplementing with, “I don’t want to scare him, and it isn’t necessary. Nobody is going to come after Peter when I’m right next to him, and I’m not going anywhere. If we can spare the men to follow Peter around, we can spare them to round everyone up and figure out who’s missing.”

“If you say so,” Piotr conceded.

“I do. Now scram. I’ve got a breakfast to attend to.”

Piotr nodded and turned, and Wade pretended he didn’t see the eye roll or hear the dissenting mumbles. If Wade didn’t respect and appreciate him he might have done something about it, but he did, and so he didn’t. Instead, he turned and went back into the parlor, ignoring the questioning looks in his direction. He wanted to tell Peter of Francis’ escape before anyone else, but he wanted to do it at the right time and place, and this wasn’t it. It would only freak him out, and he wasn’t in any immediate danger. Instead, Wade sat back down at his spot and made some excuse about Piotr having an issue of a sexual manner he had wanted to discuss. Nobody believed it, but they didn’t press the issue. 

It seemed that while he was in the hallway breakfast had been finished, but Peter had saved a few strips of bacon, which he transferred over to Wade’s plate when he returned. Wade smiled, forgetting for a moment the bad news he held, and gratefully ate the final pieces. 

“Well now that prince Wade is back,” the queen said, “I think it’s safe to call an end to breakfast. Unless there are any objections anyone would like to raise, shall we all agree to meet before the presentation of the newly mated pair at this evening’s feast?”

There were quiet murmurs of agreement, everyone ready to go their separate ways and see to their business. Everyone stood, and Wade was quick to take Peter’s arm and whisk him from the room before anyone had a chance to intercept them. As civil as breakfast had been, Wade didn’t want to create a window for a repeat of the incident between him and Norman.

“I know there’s to be an archery competition this afternoon, if you’d like to go watch,” Peter offered as they exited the parlor. “Some soldiers, but mostly serfs. They’re really quite good. If you don’t want to do that, we can go watch the musicians practice for tonight.”

“Archery sounds good to me,” Wade said, noting the excitement in Peter’s face. Wade was dressed for it already, but Peter would have to change before he could leave the castle. Maybe before he was married the loose-fitting top and lack of jewelry would be appropriate, but not anymore.

As they approached Peter’s rooms, Wade told him, “I’m sorry about that, earlier. With Osbourn. I didn’t even think about it before I did it. I just couldn’t handle him touching you.”

“It’s alright, Wade,” Peter assured him. “I was just worried it might start some trouble. Clearly your father had no interest, and Osbourn knows better than to start an argument with you over who’s allowed to touch me. It was a good reminder to everyone that you have the final say over who gets in my space, and they ought to think twice before assuming you’ll allow it.”

“I wasn’t trying to claim you or anything,” Wade tried to explain, not liking how it had been interpreted. “I just- okay, maybe it was a bit of a claim, but mostly it’s because I don’t like him, and he shouldn’t touch you without your permission.”

“But you’ve got to admit that your permission just means more. If I was alright with it but you weren’t, or if I didn’t like it but you encouraged it, then that would be the end of it,”

“Maybe that’s what he thinks, but I don’t want it to be like that. Of course if you want something for your body that I don’t, then you have final say. If you didn’t want me to intervene-”

“No, no,” Peter interrupted. “I’m glad you stopped him. People always feel entitled to my body, like it’s public property. I was pleased that you weren’t willing to let him treat me that way. Besides, I wouldn’t have hated it even if it was a claim. A brave alpha, going out of his way to protect me from someone who treats me as though they have a right to me? I’ll be thinking about it for days.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”

Don’t be silly. When we have a permanent bond, for all intents and purposes, there aren’t bounds for you to overstep. Why set the precedent?”

“You won’t belong to me just because we’ve bonded. You can still have boundaries, even for me,” Who had taught Peter that his alpha would have complete authority over his bodily autonomy? Certainly not his aunt and uncle- the queen seemed a more dominant personality than her husband. If memory served, Peter’s parents had also been on very equal footing. Perhaps it was something to dive into more later, as Peter had apparently lost patience for the conversation as soon as they reached his rooms. He pulled himself from Wade’s arm and crossed to his closet, content to let the topic fizzle.

Peter was quick to change, clearly anxious to not miss any of the action. He pulled on a new pair of leggings and a dark green fitted tunic with gold embroidery, donned a circlet as well as a series of looping chains around his neck and shoulders that made Wade’s mouth water. What he wouldn’t give to pull that tunic off and leave Peter in those glittering strings of metal and just-

“Alright, I’m ready,” Peter said, interrupting Wade’s train of thought. The alpha took his arm, leading him down the stairs and out of the castle. They walked arm in arm through a bustling courtyard, receiving the bows and greetings with smiles and nods. Peter was gracious, but continued to drag Wade out until they had made it to the audience seating of the arena. It was full of serfs as well as a few knights, just like Peter had predicted, who greeted the princes with all the respect they were due. Peter smiled at them and quickly sat, no doubt finding the best seats in the house.

Wade hardly noticed the archery itself as it unfolded, too focused on how delighted Peter was with the proceedings. He laughed and clapped when the archers were successful, and called encouraging remarks when they missed, smiling all the while. 

“Oh Wade, that’s Phillip Watson,” Peter said, pointing out a man in plainclothes who had approached the mark the archers were shooting from. “He’s the father of another good friend of mine, Mary Jane.”

“How’d a prince end up friends with a serf?” Wade asked, no judgement in his voice.

“His wife is a cook, and so MJ ended up in the castle all the time. She and Gwen saved me from boredom more times than I can count. She- Good job Mr. Watson! Well done!” Peter interrupted himself to stand from his seat and clap enthusiastically before sitting and continuing, “She’s on track to be a scribe in the castle.”

“A serf, becoming a scribe? How’d she manage that?”

Peter laughed, “She’s even more stubborn than Gwen. She bullied her way into my tutoring sessions when my parents were still alive, and my mom couldn’t ignore how smart she was, even when she was a kid. She gave her blessing, and my aunt and uncle honored it when they took power. Plus, her aunt and mine have been close their whole lives, so that helps matters.”

“Well good for her,” Wade considered asking Peter about his parents, but decided against it. He vaguely remembered them from the times he had visited Queensland as a child before they had died, but not well. Eventually he hoped to ask, but maybe in private. 

Soon, the archery was finished, and the soldiers decided to spar. Most of the serfs found seats in the audience, but some of the larger ones stayed to try their hand. A few of the soldiers bunched up for a moment, discussing something, before one- Harry Osbourn by the looks of him- broke from the group and jogged through the audience seating to where the princes sat. 

“My lords,” Harry said, bowing, “we were hoping you might join us, Prince Wade. I’m sure everyone would love to see your skills.”

Peter whipped his head around and gazed at Wade, the pleading in his eyes evident. He gripped Wade’s shoulder and asked, “Oh Wade, would you? I’d love to see that.” When it didn’t seem as though Wade were immediately convinced, he added, “My big, strong alpha. Everyone can see how fierce you are.”

And that did something to Wade. He might have to ask Peter to repeat that later, in the bedroom. In the meantime, he extracted himself from Peter’s grip, kissed him on the forehead, flashed his fangs playfully, and followed Harry down to the arena. A significantly larger crowd gathered, clearly drawn by the promise of seeing the prince fight. Peter quickly picked his way to the front before his view could be obscured, and found a spot directly in front, paying rapt attention to every move Wade made. Wade didn’t miss for an instant the way most of the soldiers eyed him, and took careful note of who was ogling his mate so he could use a touch more force than necessary when their turn came.

“Any volunteers?” Wade asked, addressing the soldiers and knights who stood before him.

“I’ll go,” a tall blond offered, breaking confidently away from the group. He was a Queenslandic knight, although Wade didn’t recognize him from.

“And who’re you?” Wade asked, rolling his shoulders in preparation.

“Flash Thompson with the 616,” he said, a smirk that seemed to be permanent. They started circling, and Wade kept one eye on his opponent and the other on Peter.

“You seem pretty confident there, Flash. Some might argue that’s unwise.”

“If you’re anything like our prince over there, I’m not worried. It’s all hype.”

Wade considered that for a moment, increasing the pace of his circling as he said, “You have experience with the prince?”

“Let’s say you won’t be the first prince I’ve sparred with,” Flash said with a laugh, and Wade had to keep himself from charging at the way he smiled.

“You’re telling me Peter wanted to spar with a guy almost twice his size?” Wade asked, keeping his voice conversational.

“Okay, it was less sparring, more keeping an omega in line, if we want to be technical over language. You know how it is,”

They weren’t far enough away that Peter wouldn’t have been able to hear them. A moment ago he looked excited, but he had collapsed in on himself. A shadow of shame flickered across his face, although Wade could see him fight to keep it at bay. Wade was immediately grateful that Flash had volunteered to go first- any later and he might have chickened out, and Wade didn’t want to miss an opportunity to kick this guy’s ass into next year.

“Keeping him in line, huh? And what exactly does that entail?”

“Nothing dramatic, if you’re worried about that,” the dipshit clearly did not understand the trouble he was making for himself as he spoke. “He let his rank go to his head, and it was practically offensive the way he marched around the castle. At the end of the day, an omega is an omega, no matter what seat they sit on. It’s not hard, here-” he broke off, turning his head to address Peter, “What do you think, Puny Parker? Maybe the winner can get a kiss, huh? You’d be a good omega for me, wouldn’t you? I bet-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. Speaking to Peter wasn’t his first mistake by a mile- hell, taking his eyes off of Wade hadn’t even been his first mistake, although it had certainly been a crucial one- but it would be his last. Wade had him on the ground in an instant, rolling them a few times for the showmanship factor, and had him pinned on his stomach before Flash had a chance to organize his limbs into a defensive posture. It wasn’t the most exciting fight, but it didn’t seem to matter too much. The crowd gasped and cheered, clearly not having been enjoying Flash’s taunting of their prince. Flash squirmed in Wade’s grip, but he quickly grabbed Flash by the wrist and pulled it behind his back until his hand met his shoulder blades. Wade took a handful of his hair with his other hand and hauled him to his feet, steering him to where Peter sat. With a boot to the back of his knees, Wade forced Flash to his knees at Peter’s feet.

Wade leaned in close and hissed directly into Flash’s ear, loud enough for Peter- as well as those surrounding them- to hear. He said, “Now listen to me very carefully, shit guzzler. If I ever hear so much as a dropped honorific in the prince’s presence I’ll rip your balls off and feed them to you. Let me catch you referring to my mate that way again and I’ll cut your liver out and give it to him as a present.”

“Yeah, yep, I got it.” Flash said, frozen in Wade’s grip.

“Now apologize and say thank you to the prince. Properly,” Wade accentuated his point by squeezing his wrist and yanking his head to the side to expose his throat.

“My deepest apologies, Prince Peter. Thank you very much, Prince Peter.”

Wade glanced up at Peter, not easing up his grip. He asked, his voice gentle, “Your highness? Thoughts? Tell me that wasn’t good enough and I’ll make him do it better.” To compound his point, he pulled Flash’s wrist up higher, eliciting a creak from his shoulder and a likely accidental whine.

Peter considered for a moment, before saying, “Say thank you to Alpha Prince Wade.”

“Thank you, Alpha Prince Wade,” Flash parroted. Peter nodded his approval and looked up to Wade, gesturing that he could release his hold. His face was stoic but Wade could see something exciting behind his eyes. Wade used his grip to shove Flash away, sending him sprawling in the dirt. He struggled to right himself for a moment before standing, brushing himself off, and sending a deep bow to the pair before hurrying off.

“I’m sorry gentlemen,” Peter said, addressing the men assembled without breaking eye contact with Wade. “I’m afraid I must ask the prince to escort me inside, and he won’t be able to do any more sparring today. Perhaps tomorrow.”

He was met with a chorus of yes, of course, have a pleasant afternoon your highness, good day to you both as he wound his arm in Wade’s and steered them back towards the castle. Many along the side of the arena were already standing, having risen during the altercation between the two alphas, and the pair were sent off with a mixture of respect and approval. Wade was glad nobody seemed to object to his treatment of the knight- although he doubted anyone would actually stand up to him after the display, he didn’t see even a hint that anyone harbored any private resentment. Even if they had, he wouldn’t have changed the way he had handled the situation- not if it meant forfeiting the way Peter gripped his arm as they strode back through the courtyard and into the castle, smelling of pride and satisfaction all the way.

\---

For years Flash had tormented him. Ever since they were young he had taken it upon himself to police Peter’s behavior. Flash came from a well-to-do family and was around the castle more days than not, and used the fact that Peter liked to abandon his tutoring sessions to wander the grounds to his advantage. Peter tried to be nice, as was his nature, and he tried to be optimistic about it- surely it couldn’t continue forever. Flash would get bored, or someone would see it happening, or Peter would figure out how to grow a spine and tell his aunt and uncle.

Apparently, the thing to make it stop was Wade. Seeing him take Flash down, and then hold him like an offering at Peter’s feet, had made him feel a kind of power he had never felt before. He had no doubt that Wade would have gladly killed Flash if Peter had asked him to. He wouldn’t, of course, for a number of reasons, but still. The opportunity was there. Flash had looked at him and had been afraid. Peter had seen it in his eyes and had smelled it in the air. He could have tasted it. When Wade caught the soldier cornering Peter in the hallway he had nearly torn his throat out, and Peter hadn’t felt nearly this level of pleasure over it. He had certainly appreciated being defended, but this time it was entirely different. This time, Wade gave Peter the power to decide what happened.

It made him hard.

Peter didn’t stop dragging Wade until the doors of his room were shut behind them. The pair had received numerous questioning glances on their way up, but clearly people recognized that Peter was not in a mood to be intercepted or trifled with, and they moved aside. Peter just kept playing the moment over and over again- the circling, the disgusting remark, Wade taking Flash down in an instant. Bringing him down to his knees at Peter’s feet. Tilting his head to the side to accentuate his vulnerability. Shoving him down into the mud when Peter was satisfied. It was a power Peter had never felt before.

“If that was too much-” Wade started once Peter’s bedroom door was shut.

“Take your clothes off.” Peter demanded, interrupting him before he had a chance to keep going.

“Okay, yes, I can do that.” Wade agreed, quick to catch on and abandon the guilt. He pulled his shirt off over his head in a single motion and fumbled with his belt, the excitement making his fingers shake. Peter knelt and started unlacing Wade’s boots, wanting him to be rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.

He hadn’t considered it before, but kneeling at Wade’s feet while he unfastened his belt gave Peter an idea. It had felt so sinfully good what Wade had done to him the night before, and he felt sinfully good right now. Why not? He might not be as good at it as Wade had been, but the enthusiasm was there, so it couldn’t be too bad, and he was too revved up to think too hard about the specifics.

He pulled the boots off just as Wade had managed to push his pants down, and Wade made a grab to pull Peter up and over to the bed. Instead of allowing himself to be hauled about, Peter grabbed Wade’s wrist, giving the alpha immediate pause. Peter looked up at him through his lashes and guided Wade’s hands to rest on his head, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Oh,” Wade said, almost a whisper. “Oh. Yeah, um- okay. Yes, absolutely. Here, let me just-” He carefully walked backwards a few steps to a chair and sat down, his knees wide. 

Peter forced himself not to blush as he crawled over to where Wade had situated himself. He settled in between Wade’s legs, laying his hands on either thigh, and considered the steadily growing thing in front of him. Was it bigger than he remembered? It had been dark the first time around, and the light was much better now. Still, Peter refused to be cowed. Wade had made him feel so powerful and confident and so Peter could do this for him. He could do it. 

He leaned forward and dragged his tongue along the tip experimentally. Wade released a drawn-out groan, tipping his head back and laying his hands gently on Peter’s head. Encouraged, Peter took Wade into his mouth, pausing at the midpoint to get accustomed to the feeling of the weight on his tongue. It was as scarred as the rest of him, but the ridges and dips made it all the better. He went slowly, bobbing his head up and down, getting closer to the base and flicking his tongue over the top each time. He could smell Wade better than ever from here, and it made him dizzy. He gained confidence as he went, and was spurred on by Wade’s fingers digging incrementally harder into his scalp.

“Peter, goddamn-” Wade said. Peter dragged his fingernails down Wade’s thighs, leaving a trail of angry red scratches in his wake. Wade whined- he practically whimpered- and thrust his hips shallowly forward. 

It wasn’t rough by any means, but the possibility of rough was there, just under Wade’s heated skin. His fingers tangled in Peter’s hair and his hips stuttering. It made Peter’s eyes water, but he kept up the pace and soon Wade was growling a warning shortly before he spilled down his throat.

Peter removed himself with a wet pop, leaning back on his heels and rubbing slow circles into Wade’s skin. The alpha sat still for a moment, breathing heavily, before removing his fingers from Peter’s hair and slipping his hands under Peter’s armpits, hauling him up into his lap. For a moment, Peter could have sworn Wade was shaking a bit. Peter quickly settled against Wade’s chest, content to let Wade hold and scent him.

“If you’re not careful, I’m gonna have to start threatening every alpha I see,” Wade said when he had caught his breath. Peter laughed into his shoulder, biting playfully at the muscle. Wade shivered and gave a retaliatory nip of his own, but took it no further.

“I’m starving,” Peter said when Wade had seemed to have sufficiently recovered. “Are you ready for some lunch?”

“Oh I’m ready for something to eat all right,” Wade agreed, sliding his hands down Peter’s back to squeeze his butt.

You are absolutely impossible,” Peter admonished, standing and swatting Wade’s hands away. “I’m going to have the kitchen send something up. Unless you’re prepared to have the poor staff see you as you are, I’d suggest you put something on.”

Wade rolled his eyes and got dressed as Peter left the bedroom. He quickly crossed the receiving room and poked his head out, only to be met with the alpha from breakfast, standing in the hall and speaking with a guard.

“Ah, your highness, I was hoping I might find Prince Wade with you,” the man said, turning away from the guard and sending Peter a deep bow. “I am Piotr Nikolayevich of Victoria, formerly of Baikal- I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted yet.”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Peter confirmed with a polite smile. “The prince is here with me, but I’m afraid he’s indisposed at just the moment. If you’d like to wait I’ll tell him you’re here and send him out.”

“That’s kind, but I won’t take up your time. I just wanted to tell him that whoever helped the prisoner escape was of Victoria, not Queensland. Francis had a few visitors during the night, but none Queenslandic, and there is no evidence of tampering of the guard’s food by any Queenslandics. I thought he’d be relieved to know we’ve narrowed it down at least a fraction.”

“Oh…” Peter didn’t know what he was talking about, but saw no reason to interrogate a stranger over it. “Well thank you, sir Nikolayevich. I will certainly pass that along to my husband.”

“Good day to you, your highness,” the alpha said, bowing once again before retreating down the hall. Peter closed the door, some unnamed emotion- disappointment? Annoyance?- overriding his hunger. He returned to the bedroom, finding Wade fully clothed and lounging in the chair Peter had left him in.

“Everything alright?” Wade asked, noting Peter’s expression.

“Were you going to tell me he escaped?” 

Wade stared at him for a moment, his mouth pressed in a thin line. Eventually, he said, “Yes. Piotr told me during breakfast, but I didn’t want to tell you with a group around. I was going to wait until we were alone, but then we went out, and then we came back, and, you know, I wasn’t exactly thinking about it anymore. But I swear I was going to tell you. I just didn’t want to scare you, and I didn’t think it would do any good. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Peter sighed, “I know, Wade. I understand. I wish you had told me sooner, but I understand why you didn’t. I know it wasn’t some conspiracy to keep me in the dark.”

Wade stood and crossed to him, wrapping his arms around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him to his chest. He buried his nose in Peter’s hair and inhaled, searching for any animosity in his scent. There was something there, but it didn’t feel like it was directed at him.

“I just wanted you to feel safe for a while longer,” he said sadly.

“From him, yeah, I did. I do, still. I saw what you did to him, and to Flash, and even to Osbourn to a lesser extent. I don’t doubt you’ll do what you can to protect me from anyone or anything. But you have to understand… guys like that, they’re just part of my life,” Peter tried to explain. “It’s horrible and humiliating, but it’s not new. I feel safe from Francis, and then Osbourn starts trying to pull my clothes around. I feel safe from him, and then Flash starts up. Some are worse than others, obviously, but I’m never really safe.”

“What can I do?” Wade asked softly.

“Just…” Peter trailed off, trying to find the words. “Don’t get tired of chasing them off. Eventually everyone will understand that they won’t get any free passes from you and they’ll leave me alone, but only if you continue to hold them accountable. You have to understand that this is what life is going to be like for years, at least until the next young, vulnerable omega pops up.”

“Well thankfully once I take the throne it won’t be a problem,” Wade said, as though it were an obvious fact.

“Not really. Even when you’re king, I’ll still be basically at the same level I am now. My rank doesn’t really change with being the omega of the crowned prince to being the omega of the king. It doesn’t make a difference. I still have functionally no power.”

“I mean, when I take the throne, so do you,”

Wade, you don’t understand.” Peter was starting to get frustrated. Wade had asked him what he could do and he wasn’t listening. “Whether you call me it or not, I’m basically a concubine. Nothing changes for me when you become king.”

“I have no intention of leaving you in that position,” Wade said, his eyes darkening in a similar frustration. “When I am king, you will be too. I’m naming you my successor.”

“Wade…” Peter stalled, deflating. “You can’t do that.”

“Why the hell not?” Wade asked, clearly affronted by being told what he could and could not do.

“There’s no legal precedent for an omega taking the throne.”

“It doesn’t matter if there is or there isn’t. I frankly don’t give two shits. When we’re officially bonded, I’m making you my official successor. You’ll be after me in line to the throne.”

“There’s no way your father’s council will allow that.”

“I’d like to see them try and stop me,” Wade said, the challenge evident.

“I… Wade, you…” Peter genuinely couldn’t believe it. “You would honestly do that? You would name me your successor? You hardly even know me.”

Wade frowned, the hurt clear. He said after a moment’s hesitation, “I can feel your heartbeat. Right next to mine.” He grabbed Peter’s wrist and pressed his palm firmly against his chest, “Here. Do you feel it?”

Peter focused for a moment, feeling the steady thumping of Wade’s heart. He didn’t think he was lying when he said yes. Yes, he could feel it now. A smaller, faster beating, mirroring that which fluttered in his own chest.

“You live in me, just like I live in you. If I die before there’s an heir, or before they’re ready to wear the crown, I want you to sit on the throne. I want you to be king.”

“King,” Peter said, feeling the word in his mouth. He had never considered that he could ever be king. The possibility had simply never occurred to him. He didn’t want to be, if it meant Wade would have to be dead, but still. The fact that there was even a potential scenario where he could have absolute power was mind-boggling. 

Wade smiled at him and parotted, “King. Because if I die, I know that there’s someone I can trust to take care of the kingdom, and that’s worth more than any legal precedent. It’s worth more than anything. Certainly more than a group of pissed-off, replaceable bureaucrats.”

Peter could feel that his eyes were starting to well up with tears. Instead of letting himself cry, he leaned up and captured Wade in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's where we're at. As always, I appreciate all of you, and I hope this was up to spit. Until next time <3


End file.
